Freeman's Mind in Neptunia
by Uranium Whale
Summary: Follow the thoughts of Dr. Gordon Freeman, a 27 year old theoretical physicist, neurotic individual, and a unique "hero" to a new strange world. (Rating may change.)
1. Episode 1

**A/N: Hello! I'm Uranium Whale, and uh... yeah, you might see that I haven't written much. On this site, at least. Well, fear no longer, because I want to write stuff! Yay!**

**So, the thing about this crossover is that it isn't a regular Half Life/Hyperdimension Neptunia crossover. It's **_**Freeman's Mind**_ **and Hyperdimension Neptunia! So, essentially imagine a paranoid, self-centered, slightly sociopathic man arriving in Gamindustri. Fun.**

**Do note that I've never really written a character like Freeman, so... essentially, I might really flub his lines. Just let me know what you think in the reviews and I'll improve on it!**

_**Italics like this **_**indicate thought, and everything else is Freeman speaking – I like to follow the theory that Freeman's Mind is partially Freeman talking, partially Freeman thinking – and it would make his interactions with the world of Gamindustri much more interesting with this theory, so I'm rolling with it.**

**So... yeah! Enjoy!**

**I DO NOT OWN HALF-LIFE, FREEMAN'S MIND, OR HYPERDIMENSION NEPTUNIA! All thanks to Valve, Ross Scott, and Idea Factory/Compile Hearts for making this crazy-ass story possible.**

* * *

A man in an orange suit picked up shotgun shells as he walked.

He sported an impressive goatee with glasses, his short hair cut and his face grim. Decorated with blood, battle scars, and a military-style ear piercing, he thought to himself. And thought. And never stopped thinking. Even before the mess that was the Resonance Cascade – before his life morphed into a never-ending battle for survival – people had never taken that kindly to him. Some may call him a delusional sociopath. Others may call him very paranoid. Still others would simply stick with "smartass". Then again, most of those people were now dead. So who cares?

Dr. Gordon Freeman, PhD had just finished readying his arsenal for the journey ahead. He had been through it all, and now some scientist was blabbering on about a teleporter. He couldn't care about what he was saying, but now that he mentioned the word "teleporter"...

"Alright, Tickle-Me-Bald Guy, we've gotta talk." He noticed the scientist moving his head down. _Oh, he's bowing. Okay..._ He bowed his head in a confused manner. That should appeal him. "Hey, forget this alien stuff. You need to teleport me to Massachusetts, alright? Massachusetts. That's simple enough, I think you can remember it."

A machine buzzed as he walked through it, striding towards the teleporter. _What the hell? Heh, yeah, I guess I am carrying some contraband._ _Man, it's too bad these teleporters aren't the duplicating kind. Then we can just tell it to not destroy me on this end, and I can create copies of myself._

He entered the vast chamber, wires strewn about, the teleporter imposing itself upon the center of the room. While normally it would be an impressive structure for Freeman to behold, he was too busy discussing to himself the merits of cloning.

"Hello, Freeman!"

With a small exclamation of surprise, Freeman looked up at the source of the voice. A scientist manning the teleporter waved at him - "I'm up here! Practice your long jump if you must, but hurry up!"

"Alright, alright, I'm coming, just hold on." deadpanned Freeman. Walking up the supports, he long jumped at the window – no doubt startling the poor controller of the teleporter. Not minding, however, with a small "Hah!", Freeman climbed onto the top of the glass and onto the catwalk. _You know, a ladder wouldn't kill you. This catwalk has poor support as it is. There's too much stress on the beam. Actually hold on, is there an exit here?_ He noticed the door behind him and walked towards it. _Like, is there a snack machine in the back or something? Because I could use that._ The door didn't budge. _No..._

Making his way back to the hunched-over scientist, he wanted to set the record straight. "Hey, I don't know what they told you, but I need you to teleport me to Massachusetts. If you can't swing that, just get me to the nearest city, like Los Alamos or Santa Fe would be fine. I should be able to hijack a ride, no problem."

Not responding, the scientist talked... more to himself than Gordon, it seemed, but the orange-clad man still managed to hear - "Alright, I can open the portal now. The process is complicated and once it's begun, I must not be interrupted or I will have to start all over again. Don't enter the beam until I give the okay. Understood?"

Losing his attention at "the process", Freeman absentmindedly emitted a "yeah" from his mouth and went off. _I'll get out of your hair, just don't screw up._ _Man, if the teleporter __**could**_ _make a copy of me..._

On he went once more about cloning in his ever-so rambling mind as the teleporter began to power up. "Oh dear!" exclaimed the scientist at the teleporter. "What is it?" That's when the fliers came – and didn't restrain themselves from firing their energy at the physicist. _Ah! Shit. _Taking no time to take out the first one with his pistol, he immediately began to open fire on the rest. _What is that?! They can fly now?!_ Energy collides with him – no doubt, it stung a bit. Another few shots, another death cry. "Hey, you've got a few bugs in your system!" he tried to yell over the gunfire. Another one falls from its place in the air. "I mean, a lot of bugs! How about fixing that?!" He pulled out the MP5, continuing his onslaught. Another alien corpse slams into the ground. "I don't know what you're doing, but you're doing it wrong! Christ..."

Unbeknownst to the HEV-suit-wearing badass and the scientist, a flier's balls of energy hits the teleporter – the scientist moved to shut it down – start it over! But before he could do so, the glass in front of him shattered – and the yellow balls struck him down. While the teleporter was built to continue the process automatically, a ball that hit the controls... may have jumbled it a bit.

The firefight continued, Gordon suffering more and more hits. He thought he heard a voice – the scientist crying in pain, but could not make it out among the noise. "What?! Do you need me to come up there? Because this isn't working! Shut it down!" No response except from the fliers - the shocks crossing his body.

A final sound from the scientist slumped on the ground did not reach his ears – "I can't hear you!" Finally, the teleporter completed its process; an orb, fueled by the lightning around it appeared. "Hey, it's doing something now! Should I go-" Freeman wailed as he fell into a trench - "I'm not waiting, I'm going to go, don't fuck me on this!", and getting up, a nonstop barrage of energy assaulted his back. "This is so fucked!" - he ran for the portal.

"Backrubs!"

"What?!"

Blackness.

* * *

Green.

_Oh! That was horrible!_

He glanced at his surroundings. Red lava, gray rock, twisted structures dominating his vision.

This wasn't Massachusetts.

_Wait, wait. What is this?_ _THIS ISN'T MASSACHUSETTS! Where did they even send me?! This isn't Earth, that's for sure! At least this is solid ground and not... I don't know, a floating island madhouse filled with fucking aliens, but it looks like Hell! Am I in Hell? Did the teleporter __**kill me?**_ _I don't like being killed! I'm too awesome for that!_

His thoughts were interrupted by yelling. "_**I WON'T ALLOW IT!"**_ Freeman looked to the source before a giant robot launched himself into the sky. He saw two... girls? What? He checked his armaments – yep, still there. At least he was loaded.

_**What the fuck is that?!**_ _Is the Army sending mechas now?! When did they develop that?_ _Why are there __**girls**_ _here? Jesus Christ, they look like teenagers! Is this the future? Maybe this is a combat trial for extra food privileges! I'm not sure, but I'm not sticking around! Bye!_

Freeman turned to get out of there before he was interrupted by screaming. One of the girls, a brunette in a blue coat, was thrown against the wall. The other was shaking in terror, a giant syringe in hand, rushing towards her friend - yet before she could reach her friend, she was knocked back by a punch from the mecha. After she recovered, she went into her purse and shuffled through it, as if looking for something - and paled as she kept shuffling - where was it, _where was it?_

"_**FRAIL! SO MISERABLY FRAIL!"**_ Freeman ran - kept running. But the robot saw the orange-clad man regardless. "_**ANOTHER ONE? HOW FOOLISH! PREPARE TO DIE!" **__Oh fuck he noticed me that's not good BAD ROBOT __**BAD ROBOT!**_ As he dodged a swipe from the automata, he pulled out his trusty best friend - a rocket launcher. _Fucking Iron Giant over here has to learn the hard way, huh?!_ _We can learn the hard way! Yeah, the Army or whatever sends their battle mech against teenage girls, so someone has to respond to it. __**Well, I am that response!**_

The rocket flew out of the death tube, guiding itself to Freeman's target - the chest. While the girls' attack may not have registered - this one did. With a roar, the robot looked to the assailant - already moving. That's all the time that was needed for the brunette to get back up - and continue the assault. With the robot guardian focusing back on the girl, Freeman continued running -and tripped. _Shit!_ Getting back up, however, he noticed something on the ground. _Hey, what's this? Some sort of crystal? Whatever, take it, I can pawn it off later._

Taking it, not noticing the girl with the syringe still frantically searching around her, he continued his sprint, dodging another attack from the robot - shooting a rocket in the process - and found, no, _stumbled_ upon a sight.

Five women, all scantily-clad, wrapped in tentacles.

_...what the fuck? This is wrong. I don't know what this is, but this is fucking __**wrong.**_ _Are these __**strippers?**_ _What kind of place is this?! Not something I'm into, that's for sure! Jesus Chr-FUCK! These things fucking grab! FUCK, ANOTHER ONE! Stop, stop, no no no no-_

Out of options, he throws the crystal at the tentacles - they shrink back from him. _YEAH! THAT'S RIGHT! THE POWER OF __**ME**_ _COMPELS YOU! Oh God one of their eyes opened. They probably hate me for ruining their fun, but honestly I've got a few bigger problems right now like a giant robot trying to crush me and- _

Rolling out of the impact zone in time, Freeman decides to do the best thing he can do in this situation - go away. _Nope nope nope fuck this I'm out, you all can have your fun, I'm sure that your tastes will fall on someones ears but fornowI'mdoneholyshitTHAT'STHEAXE_\- another blow dodged, barely. That's enough for him. As the light-haired girl ran to the freed captive, she did manage to make out, finally, the flash of orange - their hero - and the crystal, on the ground next to her. But they had a job to do first, even if he was… running away.

It was time to destroy the robot.

* * *

The girls battled for a while, trying to take it down. But no dice - each and every attack seemed to do nothing, even with the freed girl's power becoming apparent. However, she had an idea. "Wait! If we use all the Sharicite's power, we might pull through!"

The giant machine did not leave the girls unnoticed. The perfect opportunity. What fools! One swing of the axe should do it. With a battle yell, he swung- "Yaaaaaah!" The woman found her opportunity, holding the crystal in her hand. With a bright flash, it activated, delivering the white light into its eyes.

While the robot screeched, the other two girls looking in awe, the purple-haired woman went down on her knees - feeling weak… "It's working! Way to go, Gear!" She couldn't even turn her head. "Did we… make it? Augh…" Her vision turned black, and she crumpled to the floor.

"_**AGH! WHAT'S THIS LIGHT!? MY EYES, MY EYES! UNFORGIVABLE! ONCE MY VISUAL SYSTEM REBOOTS, I WILL TEAR YOU ALL TO PIECES!"**_

"Please retreat. We cannot handle this situation given our current condition." The two other women looked at each other. Could they really leave the other women behind? But… they couldn't - they didn't have any power anymore. They saved… only one. But… it was better than nothing. But even that one was due to someone else… speaking of.

The light-haired woman was the first to speak up, shock still apparent on her face, talking to her companion while running from the now blindly rampaging robot. "That man… he s-saved Ge-Ge! We need to find him and thank him!" Doubt crept across the brunette's face. "I'm not sure, Compa. What if this guy is… like, ASIC? He'd want us to fall right into his trap!"

"What?! Why would he be that?! Maybe we can at least find him! And we can ask him stuff!" replied Compa. "If you wish to do so, it is better to hurry. We do not know how long it will take for his visual system to reboot." replied the voice from the portable device. With the brunette and Compa nodding, they rushed out towards the direction of the man, angry robot swinging blindly behind them. "You know, I don't think I've ever seen a man wearing _orange_, even in a place like the Graveyard."

* * *

Freeman had to collect his thoughts - again. _Alright… I am __**here**__. Behind this… comfortable rock, with no robot here to decapitate me. On this… alien world… with no food. And lava. Plenty of lava to go around! Take a bucket home today. And… weird crystals. I wouldn't be surprised though if anyone started a shiny rock business here. Maybe those girls needed it! __**Maybe**_ _I just landed into a Mad Max society where shiny rocks are king and giant robots try to take them while guarding people wrapped in tentacles. Was that in the original movie? I don't remember-_

"Hey! Are you the guy who helped us with that robot over there?"

Freeman almost-instantly swung around with his shotgun, pointing it at the two adventurers and the unconscious figure who appeared behind him, the awake girls raising their hands in immediate shock and fear. "NOBODY MOVE AND YOU WON'T GET MONEY FROM THE BLOOD FAIRY!"

_Fade to black._

"I'M JUST HERE FOR THE ROCKS!"

* * *

**A/N: And thus, our first episode concludes. How will this situation be handled? Will Gamindustri be safe? Can Freeman ever get his rocks? Find out next time!**

**As I said, this is pretty much my first real fanfic I ever wrote. I'd like to hear feedback so I can get better, so if you got some, or just wanna ask questions, go ahead! As I said before, I don't own anything in this fic other than my writing. So, yeah! Let's see where this goes.**


	2. Episode 2

**A/N: Ah yes, welcome one, welcome all to the Paranoid Theoretical Physicist Extravaganza - a special Gamindustri edition!** **When we last left off, our "hero" was busy holding at gunpoint two random girls holding an unconscious body - and that saga now continues! Oh, Freeman. You and your social cues.**

**We have a reviewer! Yay. Guest reviewer: I have to say that while I have watched Shepard's Mind, I never really followed it to its end. And yes, there will be plenty of rambling, and plenty of shotgun fire. Don't you worry.**

* * *

_Follow the thoughts of Dr. Gordon Freeman, a 27 year old theoretical physicist, neurotic individual, and a unique "hero" to a new strange world. In this episode, Freeman gets to know his companions and closely encounters the shroom kind._

* * *

Freeman kept his shotgun pointed as he scanned those who dared to sneak up on him. _Wait, wait. It's just the food rationers and one of the freaks. Alright, Freeman, stay calm - ask them questions __**nicely.**_

"ALRIGHT, YOU TWO, WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?! DID YOU _HAVE_ TO SNEAK UP ON ME LIKE THAT?"

The two at the other end of the gun barrel flinched at the power of his yell. After some seconds of trying to stutter out an answer, Compa began to squeak. "M-Mister, w-we just w-wanted to find you to say t-thank you. T-that's all! I-isn't that right Iffy?" The other girl, Iffy, nodded her head and spoke slowly, understanding that being stupid would most likely end their lives then and there. "Yeah, we just wanted to do that and ask you a few questions. That's it."

With a sigh, Freeman lowered his shotgun. "Yeah, thank me by sneaking up on me when I'm behind a rock trying not to get decapitated by a mechanical axe murderer. That's a _really_ good idea." Compa stuttered out a "s-sorry" before Freeman continued. "Anyways, if you have questions, then I have _more_ questions, so you'd better answer them otherwise you'll be on _the list _too_._" While Iffy shared a quizzical look with Compa, the voice from the portable device spoke up, almost at a loss for words after realizing that the man in the armored suit was not ASIC and was not going to end everything they worked for. "...I'm sorry to interrupt, but it is best for all of us if you all get moving. That machine is still out there." Freeman raised an eyebrow. Or actually, both, rather high. "Well, I guess I have my first question already! Which one of you owns the genie that's talking to me right now?"

The "genie" replied back. "You're… interestingly close, in some way, but I am talking through a portable device known as the N-Gear. I will explain more later, but it is really important that we need to move. Who knows how long that machine will take to reboot its systems?" Finding himself agreeing that fighting the bloodlusted robot was not something he wished to do again, Freeman nodded his head and motioned for the girls to lead the way.

* * *

After making their way out of the heart of the Graveyard, Freeman began to think once more to himself. _Right, so, I guess we know what to do about that axe-wielding machine! Leave the giant robot alone. I'm __**sure**_ _he won't come back to kill us all later. God, what a great idea __**this**_ _was. If we see that robot again, I'm going to offer these people to it. Maybe it'll think I want to be his sidekick. Yeah, a human-AI partnership. Maybe it'll give me, like, an island or part of a continent or something to be king of if I feed it enough to take over the world. That __**would**_ _be nice! I'd have my own little domain. Let's see them try to call me weak now!_

Compa broke the actual silence of the trek. "So, um… Mister… um..."

"**Doctor **_umm…_", the recipient dripped with absolute sarcasm.

"Doctor…?"

"Doctor _Freeman_. You, trench coat girl, genie talking on a PDA, and Sleeping Beauty you're carrying on your back _should_ know me, but since I've never had to fight a beefed-up Terminator with an axe fetish before - not even at _**Black Mesa**_ \- I'm gonna assume I'm not _from_ here!"

"_Trench coat girl?!"_ replied Iffy, not even bothering to hide contempt at the man who held her at gunpoint only a few minutes ago. "This is a _jacket!_ Guess you aren't the best at fashion, are you?" The HEV wearer struck back, naturally. "Oh, I'm _sorry!_ I didn't know that we're comparing _fashion_ now! How about this comparison: my fashion _stops bullets! _Does your jacket stop _that?!_ Didn't think so!"

The argument seemed prime to continue until the voice of the N-Gear spoke again. "Please, let's stop the fighting. This won't help anything at all. Mis- Doctor Freeman, we should get to know you more, and what you just said is very peculiar." _If you really are a doctor,_ added the voice under her breath. "You said you're not from here. Where exactly are you from?"

_Damn genies trying to find out where I live._

"Alright, I'm not even gonna bother with trying to figure out things, because I think I already know what you're gonna say. Earth. Is that familiar?"

The confused looks from everyone's faces confirmed his suspicions.

_Yep. It came from outer space! Or rather, __**I **__came from outer space. They're the ones who made first contact with me. I come in peace! Look, my guns prove it!_

Compa showed a look of worry as Gordon proceeded to take out his MP5 for no reason. "D-doctor, why do you have another gun? W-where did it even come from…?" He looked at the girl and noticed the submachine gun being pointed at the air in front of him. "What? Oh." Putting the gun back into… seemingly thin air, he ignored Compa's face growing ever more pale.

Ignoring Compa's many new questions about reality, Iffy turned to look at the man - oh jeez he's tall. Breaking the silence once more, she began asking her questions, hoping it wouldn't start another argument. "Freeman, then. How did you even get here? There's no place called Earth in Gamindustri."

_Wow, what a surprise. What is this place? __**Gamindustri?**_ _Alien world, got it. Totally coincidental to how it sounds like English! Forget it. I've watched too many alien movies that have all these weird names, like 'Bloggolborg', or 'Feeprash', or whatever, but knowing my knowledge of how the universe works, of course it was going to be the complete opposite of what I was expecting. I guess Fermi didn't realize that alien life was going to be more like humanity than people think. I mean, look at these people! They're humans! But… not really? They have these… huge eyes, and no nose, really - just holes. How does that even work? Wouldn't evolution make sure that humanoids with eyes that big get outbred, because they're at a disadvantage with how their eyes are basically huge targets that say "please hit me here"? But no, they all have them! I guess there weren't natural predators here. Or dust. Oh, right, other people._

"I don't know! I teleported? Big machine that was supposed to send me to Massachusetts sent me here?" The voice spoke up again. "Teleported? Do you mean Terraported?"

_What?_

"No, not 'terruhported'. _Teleported._ My body- look, whatever, it's basically magic to you, alright? Science magic. Don't question it. Ask me something else. Or rather, tell me who the hell are you people so I can at least have a _slightly_ better idea of where the hell am I."

Compa started first, straining from having to carry the body around, but answering quickly. "My name's Compa, Doctor, and this over here is Iffy! We might have not met in the greatest way, but I'm glad to meet you, and maybe we can save the CPUs together!" Ignoring Freeman looking more confused by the second, Iffy went next. "Alright, Compa, I'll take Nepgear now…" - Compa proceeded to dump the body right into Iffy's hands, causing her to strain under the newly added weight - "And my name's IF. I-F, not 'Iffy'. If you call me that, I'm going to hurt you."

"Noted. And who's the genie?" The voice on the other end of the N-Gear started to speak up. "My name is Histoire, Oracle of Planeptune. Doctor Freeman, as much as you seem to be very… controversial… Compa said you did indeed save Nepgear. I, on behalf of Gamindustri, must thank you for that. You are doing a great service for us - all of us."

"Well, I'm glad to be part of your little fantasy kingdom and all that, but I still don't know what the hell is going on. Introducing two new terms a second to me doesn't help with that. I don't understand what the _customs_ are of this world, but I _do_ understand that saying shit that isn't useful to me _at all_ without further information won't make me know what you're talking about. How would you like it if I started talking about the Hamiltonian energies of a simple harmonic oscillator like that? Bet you'd _really_ like to know what those eigenkets are, huh?"

Not for the first time taken aback by their new companion, yet another silence reigned before IF spoke again. "...jeez, you really can't understand what being civil is, can you? I thought even babies knew what a CPU was, but shouting at me that you don't know isn't exactly nice. Alright, so listen. A CPU - there's four of 'em, and they're basically our goddesses. Each of them rules one nation that places their faith in them - Planeptune, Lastation, Leanbox, and Lowee. There's also CPU Candidates, basically their younger sisters and the heir to the nation. You just saved Nepgear, the CPU Candidate for Planeptune - and that's a pretty big deal to us, so at the very least, you can smile and enjoy being a hero, you know. Ruling in place of the CPUs right now are people called the Oracles - and Historie's one of them. They're basically trusted advisors to the CPUs. And our quest is to save the rest of the CPUs from ASIC, the baddies who want to take over Gamindustri and steal all our shares. Does that help?"

"Good enough." IF let out another sigh before the walking continued, all of them Planeptune-bound.

* * *

The time passed, and although in reality it wasn't that long since they set out, Gordon felt like it took forever. Often, the girls and Freeman would take turns holding Nepgear - while it wasn't a problem for Gordon to carry the CPU Candidate all the way there, faking exhaustion was a good way for him to not have to do it. While there were periods of silence, Freeman continued to learn more about the new world he was thrust into during conversations, all the while snarking both inside and out of his head.

_So, that trench coat girl, what was her name? IF. Right. Nice __**name**__. Her parents didn't know what to call her, so they just named two random letters and said that's it! This walk really is enlightening, though. It shows me just how __**batshit insane**_ _this whole place is. I mean, what the fuck? We have tentacle-loving goddesses who rule over people, giant axe robots, shiny crystals that emit holy light or whatever, 'humans' with unrealistically large eyes and no nose, lava hellscapes, and people with two letter names. I don't think even __**salvia**_ _would give me something this crazy! Yet here I am, living it! Y'know, if I hadn't been fighting aliens for three days straight, I would have been convinced that this is a sort of a death dream I got from overdosing on dextromethorphan somewhere down the line. We probably had that in Black Mesa. We had nanoemitters, anything was possible! Where was I? Oh right, 'jacket' fashionista. I saw phones on her. I saw a lot of phones! There must be, like, nine of them! Who needs that many?! You know, some guy talked a long time ago about how everyone was gonna be so addicted to technology that they'll essentially be __**zombies**__. Is that what's happening here? Are these people zombies? I wouldn't put it past 'Gamindustri'. If we have robots here, we'd probably have zombies! It's like those old B-movies I'd watch at 4 AM on TV. 'Ninja Robots versus Space Zombies'... I gotta swipe one of those phones. Maybe I can call God and ask him to get me some charcoal._

As much as Gordon was impatient by the walk, it seemed the appearance of the skyline of Planeptune took only ten years! He expected, like, infinity years, so this was pretty good.

"And there's Planeptune in the distance! Your turn to carry Ge-Ge now, Doctor." Gordon only nodded and grabbed Nepgear, faking a grunt. _Damn, they weren't kidding! That definitely is a city! A… purple city, but still a city. I was expecting… I don't know, a village of straw huts with people dancing around a fire? Not this… well, I guess this isn't hell! Maybe this is purgatory, and God or whatever is trying to test me if I should go to heaven or not. Oh, that's what the goddesses are for! "Thou shalt not make unto me graven images… of barely-dressed alien women." Yeah. Well, I got news for you, God! __**I don't deserve purgatory!**_ _...no, this isn't purgatory. Too much purple. And skyscrapers. And generic science fiction. Oh well. Guess I'm just stuck here. Yeah, I mean, those jackasses at the teleporter never told me I was gonna go here! And I didn't see any other people from Black Mesa! I guess they just wanted to get rid of me! Yeah, __**bye!**_ _Have fun dying to aliens! You assholes._

"This is it, Freeman. Welcome to Planeptune." Gordon turned to look at IF, who at this point was just glad they had made it home in one piece… with Nepgear, even though they wanted to save all of them. But the Sharicite didn't have power…

"Yes, Doctor Freeman. I believe you will enjoy this place much better than the Graveyard. I've already prepared a guest room for you, and when Nepgear wakes up, we can all discuss our next move against ASIC. In the meantime, do take your time to explore the city, and familiarize yourself. And please, don't point any more guns at people. That typically doesn't go over well with people, Doctor. We do have police."

'_We have police'? Seriously? Are we playing this game? Police. Look, I understand you want to look out for your citizens safety and all, but I'm the wrong guy, OK? I'm not a criminal. Those military goons may think I am, but in all honesty, I'm not. Self-defense is not a crime! Even… maybe two hundred… counts of self-defense isn't a crime. And if I rack up more crimes of self-defense here, I don't need police! __**It is my God-given right to-**_ _oh we're here._

_Fade to black._

_I need to hit the clubs __**here**_ _first. Dallas can wait._

* * *

**A/N: And we're done! With Episode 2. (hurr hurr no more chapters guis can't do 3)**

**I'd really like to thank my friend Red for helping me portray Neptunia characters better. Couldn't make this fic as great without him.**

**Yeah, basically, Freeman's reached Planeptune. God help them. Perhaps next chapter will be… something a little different than plot? Maybe. Filler? Also maybe. But if it is filler, it'll be fun filler, goddammit! Gordon's not gonna stand for boring filler! That's not how this works!**

**Anyways, as usual, if you guys have anything to say, let me know! I'm happy to keep writing this to you guys, because this really is a fun idea that I want to go forward with. See y'all later.**


	3. Episode 3

**A/N: Well guys, we did it! We reached Episode 3! This joke is still funny, right? Oh well. I'm still proud.**

**Another question from a reviewer! Flitterflux: …**

**We'll see… about **_**that!**_

**Anyways, we now return to Freeman trying to integrate into Planeptune society. Let's see how **_**that**_ **goes.**

* * *

_Follow the thoughts of Dr. Gordon Freeman, a 27 year old theoretical physicist, neurotic individual, and a unique "hero" to a strange new world. In this episode, Freeman embraces the vices of life and hits the streets of purple progress at large._

* * *

_So… what'd they call this place? Pla-__**neptune?**_ _Well, whatever it's called, I'm going to make sure it's named after __**me**_ _instead. Things named after me are so much better than things __**not**_ _named after me. There's really no comparison. I designate this place… Freeman...opolis...tania. Yeah, that. We can work out the d_e_tails later. It's the __**future**__, after all. Everything's better in the future! Except 1984. And Brave New World. And The Minority Report. And… yeah, these shiny buildings are all fake, aren't they._

Walking through a crowded Planeptunian avenue, Gordon, only set free after promising (perhaps a little sarcastically) that he wouldn't hold more people at gunpoint, tried to figure out where he would go. Well, he knew where he would _go_, but not where he could find them. Moving past an alley vendor promising some sort of chip to people, Freeman continued to make plans in his head.

_Okay, first of all, I'm going to __**drink**_ _away Black Mesa. It's gonna be __**gone**__. I don't think twelve steps apply to people who had to kill dozens of trained military soldiers and hundreds of bloodthirsty aliens. __**Next**__, I'm going to find some morphine and oxycodone. They'll have it here. They'll have it anywhere, if you know where to look! And it __**is**_ _the future. Maybe that guy talking about chips really meant he had a bunch of drugs! Yeah, it could just be their street slang. Man, I gotta find that guy. Whatever. Knowing this "future", they're probably on every corner. I wanna find those bars, though. Wait… wait._ Freeman stopped in his tracks. _Shit. I have no money. Or an __**ID**__. That's a problem. Alright, I remember that time I somehow ended up in Roslindale. They… yeah, I can pocket someone else's. I just need to find someone like me and knock him out in an alleyway. _

Gordon took a moment to scan the people around him - and realized something.

_These people… there's a lot of __**girls**_ _here. Like, more than 50/50. On one hand, that's __**great**_ _for me, because then I can really show the __**ladies **__how I roll! But… I find myself asking again how something like this __**happened.**_ _Humanity kinda need males, too! It's not even sexist, it's just biology! Of course, the last time I said that, my date walked out on me, but still!_

Freeman took another look around for some sign he was familiar with. Yeah, he was lost.

_Seriously, this kinda thing doesn't make sense. I'm not a biologist, but I __**thought**_ _that chromosomes made it so that the gender birth ratio is about equal. Is their DNA different there too? It really makes me wonder how __**human**_ _these people are. They wouldn't make it past a DNA test back on Earth, that's for sure. And how would society work? Are males a precious commodity that these women claw at each other for? I don't see any catfights on the street. Maybe they're more civilized than that. I can- __**oh my God, FINALLY!**_

The word "BAR" on a sign beheld itself to him, almost emitting heavenly light.

_**YES! **__Alright, time to play it cool. Maybe they'll assume I'm awesome, which I __**am, **__and that's all the ID they need. There's the bouncer…_

Strutting like it was the Freeman Picture Show Hour, Gordon headed for the entrance. Nodding his head at the bouncer, the guard responded in turn and made no effort to stop him.

_**Ha-hah! **__I __**knew**_ _that would work! Being badass is the only form of ID __**I **__need. Rectangular cards are for __**squares**__. Now then, time to get __**trashed! **_

Putting the fact that he had no money and no way to pay back the drinks he would order into the back of his mind, he proceeded to continue his Freeman Strut towards the counter, eagerly occupying a barstool and whistling for his "well-deserved service".

After dealing with another customer, the bartender - surprisingly a male - walked over, maybe hiding a bit of annoyance from his face. "Alright, and what'll you have?"

"Well, **let's see!** Hm…" He looked over at the drink menu again. _What the hell? There's only two beers… one wine… a whiskey… lemonade, water, cranberry, some vodka… what? I'm sorry, I thought this was a __**bar?! **__This place should be able to __**flood**_ _in alcohol if I want it to! Damn it, I __**knew**_ _there was a dark secret to this city! Never trust shiny buildings! Never!_

With a sigh, Freeman returned to the physical realm. "I'll have… one of the 'Purple Hearted 90-Proof', I guess. Don't even bother with a glass. Just hand me the bottle and let it do the magic." The bartender naturally raised an eyebrow, but simply shrugged and went to do his request, adding in a "If you can pay for it."

_Ha. Ha. Yeah. 'Pay for it'. Look, bud, I've done the old drink and dash before, I can do it again._

Before he could formulate the specifics of his patented 'run away before the bartender notices' plan, he heard the creak of a nearby barstool being occupied. Specifically, the one right next to him. Looking to his right, Gordon saw a large violin case first, and only after a second did he see the movement of a woman holding it.

Turning her orange eyes to Freeman, she was the one who broke the ice. "Haven't seen you around before." _That's what they all say first._ immediately replied Gordon in his head. "Yeah, let's just say I'm pretty new here. But you'll see me, alright. Everyone will. Haha. _Ahahaha._ _**AHAHAHAHAH!**_" Breaking uncontrollably into a somewhat evil laugh, he didn't notice the slightly offsetting looks given by nearby patrons. The woman, however, seemed very unshaken. "Well, it's nice to see you regardless. How about I pay for your drink?" _Score!_

The bartender once again made his way to Freeman, bringing his ever-so coveted bottle of whiskey. As he set the bottle down, he widened his eyes slightly at the woman. "Falcom? Haven't seen you for a bit here." At the mention of the name, some murmurs broke out among those who overheard, and Freeman suddenly felt like he was about to be blinded by spontaneous cameras.

"Yeah, it's been a while. I came back here to see if there were more quests I could do, but I don't think I can find anything here right now. You can pay for the man's drink next to me, by the way." Gordon enthusiastically nodded and gave a thumbs up. After seeing the spectacle, the bartender simply nodded and accepted the credits she handed to him.

"So, um, you play the bass? That's a pretty big case. You could hold a weapon in there! That would be badass."

Falcom smiled and pointed to her case. "You would be correct, Mr…"

"**Doctor** Freeman."

"Mr. Freeman." Gordon felt insulted, but passed it by - she was cute enough. "This case here holds a very powerful sword. I can't show you it in a place like this, but if we see each other again in a more appropriate area, I'd be glad to tell you more about it!" _Heh. More appropriate area._

"Yeah, that sounds cool, I guess. And hey, maybe I can get your number? Talk more soon sometime?" _Oh come on, please work._

A tint of red appeared on her face as she beamed again. "I'm sorry, Mr. Freeman, I'm afraid I don't exactly _have _a number." _**Damn it! **_"If you ever find me again, though, I'd be happy to chat! I'm sure I won't regret getting to know you better." _**So close!**_ _Oh well. At least I have the whiskey - __**paid for by someone else!**_ While Freeman continued roaming in his thoughts, he was rudely interrupted by a new voice permeating all throughout the establishment.

"**WILL MY WIFEY BE FOUND HERE?"**

_Okay, I don't know who the fuck said that, but I already __**despise**_ _you. Someone call the animal control, the zoo let a hyena loose! Jesus, how does someone even __**get **__that loud?!_

A flash of red materialized next to Freeman and Falcom, sitting at the barstool next to Falcom and eagerly turning itself towards her. _Wha-_

The poor adventurer couldn't react fast enough before a pair of arms wrapped around her in a hug. "**My wifey! I choose you!"** Falcom didn't seem to have any words after that, perhaps feeling the urge to leave stronger than before.

Gordon, however, was ready to speak. And speak he did. "What the- _**you're ruining the moment! **_I _was_ about to have a fun time with my drink, and you just decide to barge in on me! _**Hey! Are you listening?!**_ _**HELLOOOO!?"**_

The blur seemed to take shape just after that, arms still held tightly around a confused Falcom. A girl with crimson and tinted-white bangs as well as a tie-back that was shaped like the letter 'R' turned to face Freeman, apparently unaffected by his tirade. "And who might you be?" replied the girl, curiosity apparent in her voice. "Someone trying to _**enjoy himself, thanks! **_God, just- y'know what, this is _exactly_ what Mr. 25-Ounce is here for. Yeah, **cheers**." With no more commentary, he immediately started downing the bottle, not stopping until about half of the whiskey was gone.

"Oh well. New wifey, I came for you! I'm Red, and your name..."

Gordon couldn't hear the rest, as he had already walked out of the bar, turning back down onto the street.

_That whiskey __**should**_ _be kicking in soon. Jesus Christ, it needs to kick in __**now.**_ _I can't keep that voice in my head, it's going to drive me __**insane**__. I wasn't aware that apparently some people don't know the definition of __**subtlety**__. Where did she even come from? Now that I'm thinking about it, she looked __**young.**_ _Like, definitely not legal. __**How did she even get in the bar?!**_ _I know __**I'm**_ _too amazing for ID checks, but what about everyone else? Do they not even __**bother**__? "Yeah, you look like you're fifteen, you're good"? I guess teenagers don't need to throw their parties in secret! That reminds me of the time back in high school some kid tried to be clever with getting booze for his party. Instead of having __**one**_ _adult getting a suspiciously high amount of alcohol in one store, he got __**multiple**_ _adults to get smaller amounts of it in different stores. The problem with __**that**_ _is that it opened him up to more people being able to snitch. The party went great until the cops crashed it._

Freeman looked around again for some reminder of what he wanted to do next - and found it when a female voice rose above the chatter of the street.

"**Arfoire chips! Get your Arfoire chips! The true product for a true goddess! Get your Arfoire chips here!"**

_Oh, __**right! **__The __**drugs! **__Aw, yeah. All these problems will just melt away. Now, where is she…_

Triangulating the source of the voice, Freeman quickly found himself talking to a burly woman in a gray uniform, with blue eyes and dyed-black hair. "Yeah, buddy, you want an Arfoire chip?" Freeman put on his best 'give me the happy pills right now' smile and responded with an enthusiastic tone. "Oh boy, do I! What you got? Oxycodone? Morphine? Mescaline? Maybe some xylazine? I can take it!" The woman blinked at him, completely confused. "...what? These are just chips, man." "Yeah, I know, chips, but _what kind?_ I know drugs, okay? You can't really mix these names up. That's bad for business." Fully aback at the eagerness of his questions, she couldn't really say much else. "Dude, I don't even know. I don't make these, okay? My job is just to give them out to people. And then I have a gun in case anyone tries to stop me. That's all I know."

"Ah, a gun! That's fine. Gangs need to protect themselves. It's what makes the ghetto go round! You must just be a low-level dealer. Haven't really met the head honchos. Well, if you really don't _know_, I think I can just take one. Surprise me! The best highs are the ones you don't see coming!" The woman really couldn't continue anymore. "I… you can just take all of them. Honestly, just do that. Have fun." Shoving the entire bag into Gordon's hands, she walked off, muttering to herself about "orange-colored loons".

_Holy __**shit**__, an entire __**bag**_ _of free drugs? I guess this really __**is**_ _the future! But… no paying? Not even, like, a few bills? Damn, I guess __**profit**_ _isn't a big motive for gangs nowadays. Well, it's their loss. What did that genie say? They had __**police? **__Apparently their police doesn't care about people literally __**giving away drugs on the street! **__And that genie expects a police force of that quality to restrain me. Genius idea, guys. I probably shouldn't assume that, though. Maybe this place is like Amsterdam! It's a drug free-for-all! If you're living, you're eligible. The more the merrier! Alright, let's see here…_

As Gordon sat down in an alley and prepared for the street to just disappear into a world of fun, he looked into his goodie bag so he could decide what to take first.

_These… these look like chips. I guess that's why they called them __**chips.**_ _So, where's the label? __**Oh**__, maybe that's why the dealer didn't know which was which! Maybe it's designed to be random on __**purpose**__, like a card collection. Yeah, that's probably it. You open the box and you see what you get. Collect them all! To be honest, I kinda hope there's a drug chip collection group somewhere here, because I just won their game. They probably collected money their whole life trying to get different drugs, trying to get each unique one, buying them for months and months on end, and meanwhile I just got at least __**five**_ _of every last drug in a __**minute.**_ _Their purpose in life is __**gone.**_ _That's what smooth persuasion gets you, ladies and gentlemen! Those nerds __**wish**_ _they could be me. Alright, so… let's take one here. Uh… I don't know how to use this._

Turning it over in his hands, looking for any sort of button or injector or accessory but finding none, he groaned, not liking the fact that his high hasn't come yet, and that the whiskey still has some time left before it could work its magic.

_Stupid future technology. Come on, __**come on!**_ _There has to be a way to use this thing! Everything is so damn complicated here! Isn't the future supposed to make things __**simpler?**_ _Easier to __**use?**_ _Man, these drug cartels here or whoever makes these have __**nothing**_ _to drug cartels on Earth. Those guys have __**methods.**_ _I've seen the documentaries! Damn it… oh wait, here's some text. Probably instructions._

"**ARFOIRE CHIP: TO BE USED AS FAITH TOKEN AND COUNTERFEIT CURRENCY - ASIC ISSUE #6216489"**

_...__**ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?! IT'S FAKE**_ _**MONEY!?**_ _**THESE AREN'T DRUGS, THESE ARE WORTHLESS! RRRAAAGGGHHH! **_

Freeman, enraged, kicked the alley wall with all the power of his HEV suit, creating a decently-sized hole as well as a sense of discomfort inside those who heard him. Taking himself a good minute to calm down, he could feel the high slipping away from him.

_Faith tokens._ _Yeah, __**faith! Just what I need right now!**_ _That dealer __**lied to me!**_ _She said "take the bag" and ran off! I guess I should have seen __**that**_ _coming! The dystopian city that has no alcohol has no drugs! __**Who would've guessed?! **__Everyone here thinks they live in a bigshot paradise, I bet they haven't even gone outside __**the city limits!**_ _Go ahead! Go to Giant Robot Lavaland! No intoxication needed for __**that!**_ _Everything's __**fine**_ _if we bury our heads in the sand! __**La-la-lala-lah! **__What did you say?! __**I couldn't hear you over my existential crisis!**_

With a deep breath, Freeman got up from his sitting position, taking the bag with him.

_Might as well keep these stupid things. Fake money can still get you far. Even if it's… __**labelled**_ _as fake currency. ...what? Yeah, look, it says here. "To be used as counterfeit currency"...__**How incompetent is everyone?!**_ _I thought you could only find this kind of stupid at Black Mesa, but nope, I'm proven wrong __**again!**_ _Hey, Jimmy, how do we make sure this money is counterfeit? Durr, I know! Let's say it's fake_ _**right on the bill. **__Brilliant thinking, Jimmy! They'll never suspect a thing, durrr. No wonder people worship these goddesses - they're all just __**sheep.**_

_...Alright, I think I'm done wandering today. This is bullshit, I'm heading to the room that genie gave me. Tell housekeeping that I'll give them a tip if they can prove they can count past the number five._

And with that, he set off, ready to head down to- wait.

_Wait… shit. I forgot where they told me to go. They told me! They had this talk with me - "bluh bluh bluh Freeman, don't kill anybody, bluh bluh, meet us at this place. Bluh." Then again, it's their fault they named it something I couldn't remember! They could've just named it the whatever "Hotel", but no. It was something with a B… bah… basil? No wait, yeah. I remember. They called their place 'Basil'. Of course they did. What do we name a hotel after, guys? How about a __**leaf?**_ _Perfect. I'm not even surprised anymore. This is the future people wanted, this is the future people __**get.**_ _Alright, I guess… there's a map stand over there. Good, at least they accommodate for tourists. Wait, there's a coin slot. Well, time to see if the brains behind the money that tells you it's fake at least know how to make it work!_

Slotting an Arfoire chip into the hole, he waited a moment before the map dispensed from another, bigger slot, landing on a stand.

_Good. They can at least make fake money actually be fake money. Let's see here… Neptune Street… Purple Heart Avenue… Purple Sister Lane… wow, they really like their planets and purple, don't they! Ah, here we go. The… Basil-uh-com. Okay, fine, I guess it's not just named 'Basil'. But it still counts! That's not a hotel chain I know! What about a Marriott? Or a Sheraton? Or at least a Days Inn? Maybe some people don't want to consider it a place to stay a night, but I can accept motels. Not my first rodeo with… oh God, I can't think about bedbugs. No. Too many bad memories. Alright, so where am I? That's the pickle building over there, which means… this way. Fine with me._

By the time he managed to make his way to the impressively tall purple spire, he felt just a little more tipsy, and the sky seemed to turn a bit more orange. Forgetting what he was carrying in his hands, he looked around for a bit before entering, not expecting any trouble.

_And… wow, this room is bright. But… bright purple. Man… man, this place *hic* is great. Wavelengths rule! Physics rules! Not like those… those pussy astrologists. They don't understand_ _how space *hic* __**really**_ _works. I… no one, really, can… I can't explain *hic* it to them because they just say that the stars don't say that or something like that. The stars don't *hic* 'say' anything, lady. They're stars. They can't talk. What if-_

"Hey, you there! What's that in your hand?!"

_Ah, damn it, it's those cops that genie talked about. Alright, stay calm… *hic* act __**natural**__._

"Ahhh, officers! I'm just going for a nice _stroll_, that's all! Do you know where I can find the check-in desk? I've got an appointment with my bed. Urgent matters."

"Possession of illegal contraband makes you subject to the penalties of the law! Stop right there!"

"Now that's no way to treat a paying customer!"

_Fade to black._

"...No, you don't need the handcuffs. That's… no, okay, we aren't playing nice. That's fine. My lawyer doesn't play nice either."

* * *

**A/N: Woah, this was a bit of a long one!**

**From here on out, yes, the plot deviates from Mk2 somewhat. I have a confession to make: I've never actually played a Neptunia game. Gasp. Much of what I know of the plot and characters comes from reading articles and watching a bit of some walkthroughs, as well as reading other fanfiction, which I realize may not the best way to fully learn accurately the varied characters of Gamindustri, but laziness triumphs over all, dammit!**

**I do want to make longer chapters in the future, hopefully around this length. That seems like a sweet spot. It might take a little longer to write, but I prefer it this way. Also, I'm trying to do my best on the characters, but again, I could mess something up, so if you spot something off, let me know. **

**Thanks for reading, guys! I never expected this many people from all over the world to see this, so I'm glad you all enjoy it! Next up: Freeman versus The (Wo)Man. Again.**


	4. Episode 4

**A/N: And we're back! Last time on Gordon Freeman's constant misadventures, we saw him reflecting on the nature of Planeptune and obtain a new criminal record while he was at it. Now, Freeman will have to face… rather foreseen consequences for being a dumbass and bringing in an entire bag of fake money while drunk. How will he get out of this one? I guess this is the chapter we find out!**

**Guest reviewer returns! Guest reviewer: It ain't Freeman without his diatribes. That being said, I can consider adding in other Minds, but this would be in the future. For now, it's only our pal Gordon.**

* * *

_Follow the thoughts of Dr. Gordon Freeman, a 27 year old theoretical physicist, neurotic individual, and a unique "hero" to a strange new world. In this episode, Freeman chooses the dungeon life and takes the meaning of knowledge to a whole new level._

* * *

_Man, these guys are *hic* stiff. Can't they lighten up a little? I can feel them through my *hic* __**suit**__. Oh well. I have a lawyer. They can't prove anything. I gotta thank Eddie for *hic* that one. He had the best back-alley lawyers around! I… oh no, I gotta… __**blaaggghhh!**_

The Basilicom guards usually dealt with nosy spies or disorderly individuals. They didn't have as much experience with drunk theoretical physicists. With a sharp sound, Freeman spilled his alcohol and whatever he had possibly ate over the nice Basilicom dark purple carpet, causing the pair of guards handling him to flinch, and following that, hurry their process of taking him away from the public sight and to the dark underbellies below.

_Agh… *hic* that wasn't very good. Damn it, this always happens at a party. Everything goes well until the stomach juices come out. What is this… stone *hic* floors? I guess we have dungeons here. But wait, dungeons at *hic* a hotel? What? Well, it's the future, I *hic* guess. Hah, those cops looked spooked. Yeah, *hic* take that, authority. Drunks shall rule the Earth… I think that's how that went. That's what that hobo in an alleyway told me one time. I don't *hic* see many other alternatives. Yeah, drunk people shall rule! Me… and that guy… and uh… yeah, I guess that's really it._

Gordon, feeling that the mood is perhaps a little too quiet, decided to try and break the silence. "Hey-hey! I guess these are the *hic* dungeons, huh? That's cool. What are your _names_, by any chance? I'm not gonna steal your identity or anything. I'm way *hic* too nice for that." No response. "Oh, okay, fuck you guys then."

_So… I guess I'm here __**forever**_ _now. I mean, it's *hic* probably not forever, but this isn't a jail, it's a dungeon. Everyone that gets sent to a fantasy dungeon is sent there for the rest of his life. That's like, rule number one of dungeons. Either that, or it's "never talk about dungeons". The second rule might be *hic* that, though. I need to check. This stuff's probably written down in a book somewhere. "Dungeon Demeanor"..._

Looking relieved that they finally don't have to be anywhere near their delinquent any longer, the guards entered an open cell and unceremoniously dumped him on its bench, uncuffing him and quickly shutting and locking the door behind them as they left, never looking back. Freeman took a moment to bathe in his stupor before returning to his senses. Well, returning to slightly-less impaired senses.

_Oh boy, my cell! Let's *hic* take a tour. _He groggily stood up from his position on the bench and looked around. _First up here is the cold floor. A staple of the cold and dark prison, always a classic. Can't beat it. Next up, we have the bench! This bench is good for eating food and contemplating life on, a good execution to making new prisoners realize the fact that they're here for life. And… a bed! That's… that's a bed, *hic* yeah. Not much to say there. Maybe I'm gonna be hated on by the bed enthusiasts, but I prefer the bench. There's just so many more options! It's just __**better.**_ _You can't understand it unless you *hic* try it. Whoa! A toilet with __**a room around it?!**_ _Hold on a minute!_

Gordon walked to the door (almost stumbling into it, really) and peered inside.

_It is! Wow, didn't expect that one._ Closing the door, he went back to analyzing his surroundings _Wait, look, there's a desk too! I guess I got placed into one of the __**deluxe**_ _dungeon cells. Maybe I had enough dungeon points saved on my card. Anyways! Continuing where we left off, we have the *hic* iron bars! If you ever wanna scream while shaking the bars saying you want to be let out of here, we've got you covered. I think that's it for the tour! Tips are *hic* very encouraged. Wait, what am I doing?_

Among the occasional mutters and clanking of the other dungeon occupants, Freeman realized something.

_Oh my God, I'm stuck in __**prison!**_ _This isn't how I wanted it to end! I'm not __**ready**_ _to try to scare kids straight, I haven't *hic* done enough yet! At least let me have a cool mugshot!_

Accepting reality in his drunken situation, the dim lights reflected off his face as he thought of ways to make the most out of his new life.

_I'm boned, that's the *hic* thing. Usually, in prisons, people get known first for what they __**did**__. Maybe they murdered a guy, or robbed a bank, or something. What am I supposed to say? The cops found me with a *hic* bag of fake money? That's how you get laughed at! I'd be at the __**bottom**_ _of the prison ladder. Okay, I'd really need to be __**brutal**_ _if I want to get __**anywhere**_ _here. I can't just smile and wave at people. I need to start cracking __**skulls.**_ _That's how you get __**respect.**_ _And it's not like the cops can *hic* stop you. What are they gonna do, send you to solitary for a couple of days? Extend your sentence? You're already here once, the data shows it's more than likely you're gonna be here again. You might *hic* as well never leave! This is your life now, and you can either cry in your cell for half of the day, or you can start gouging out eyes with a spoon. Some people say to do the right thing, but if I'm here already, I'd rather do the __**hardcore**_ _thing._

As an eternity (five minutes) passed to Gordon, and as he planned more schemes in his head that involved hiding drugs, shanking gang members, bribing guards, and becoming King of the Dungeon Gordon the First, PhD, the same pair of guards that brought him to his new domain went to his cell.

Masking an expression, one of them spoke in a low tone. "You. The Oracle wants to see you. We're trusting you to come with us uncuffed because of this, but if you try anything, we'll have no problem putting you back in here until the Oracle deems fit." Freeman blinked and replied "_Yes, ma'aaaaaam,_" in the most sarcastic way he knew how. Pretending to ignore his disrespect, they opened the door and waited. Taking a few seconds to make sure he didn't fall down getting up from his bench, he shambled over to the guards and together, they began walking the way they came out.

_Ah, yeah, I guess the 'Oracle' or whatever is their warden. I… maybe it could have been something else…? No, it's the warden. I bet it's the warden. They like to try and come up with fancy titles for themselves so they *hic* feel special. Man, I should… run, honestly. These idiots left me __**without handcuffs**__. I know everyone here was… is incompetent, but __**how dumb do you have to be?**_ _**I**_ _wouldn't escort me to the *hic* warden uncuffed. __**No one**_ _would escort me to the warden uncuffed. At least, I __**thought**_ _no one would, but here we are again, breaking records of stupidity! The Darwin Awards or Guinness or whatever needs a new section about this kind of stuff. I bet it would sell a lot of copies to people who think they would __**never**_ _end up on one of those lists. "Good thing those people aren't me."_

Moving back to the lobby, the trio entered a large chamber. A statue of a girl Freeman didn't recognize atop a pedestal was at the center of it all, with ornate futuristic patterns decorating the walls and floor. Benches were set around the room, echoing a sort of waiting area, and in the back of the chamber contained a circular platform having a transparent floor covered in glowing purple hexagons, with the ceiling above the platform seeming endlessly tall, the top out of sight.

_Huh… *hic* this is a pretty big place. I don't know what the… the purpose of this place is, but at least it looks cool. My guess is that it's like Black Mesa did with the box-smashing rooms and the giant nutcracker, just with a consumer perspective instead of a government one. *hic* They're padding out the money the hotel earns so people think it's doing something productive. Gotta boost that rating somehow! This room will do just the trick. Oh wait, we're going on the platform. I guess it's like… a sort of dance floor? Maybe this room is just *hic* their version of a ballroom. _

As Freeman continued to ramble internally, guard rails rose up from seemingly nothing around the perimeter of the platform.

_Woah, woah, wait. What… where did __**that**_ _come from? Maybe *hic* I'm just seeing things. I think I __**am**_ _drunk! I __**needed**_ _to be drunk. That's why I didn't grab my gun and shoot myself when I heard that walking megaphone back at the bar. God, I just remembered! I have __**guns!**_ _How did they not see that? I mean… I'm pretty good at hiding *hic* them, but still. Wait a second. This… this is moving. Holy shit, this is an __**elevator! **__I guess the warden really doesn't want to stay with the peasants in the dungeons. This place is a hotel, after all. At least it's not *hic* spinning. God, I hate those. Oh God, we're going faster. Alright, stay calm *hic*, breathe, breathe, don't vomit again._

After about thirty seconds, the elevator stopped at the top floor, and a puke-covered Freeman stumbled with the clearly uncomfortable guards towards a door that barely fit his height.

_Alright, door! *hic* You're no match for the Freeman. Step aside!_

**Thump.**

_Ow._

After a few more corridors and disgusted looks, Freeman and the guards entered a waiting room for the Oracle of Planeptune's office.

_Alright, warden, we need to *hic* talk! This dungeon is __**oppressive**__, and I demand my constitutional rights to be __**respected!**_ _You probably *hic* have one. You might not, I don't know. Theocratic states *hic* usually aren't fine with people being secular, and democratic, and stuff. At the very least, stealing something from your office is a… right that prisoners have. Rules are for sissies! __**I**_ _am the *hic* rules around __**here.**_ _Oh man, I guess I really am trashed. That's the spot. Yeah... _

"The Oracle is ready for you. Go. Just go."

Stumbling and slurring into the room, Gordon's eyes and brain registered several facts. One: damn, this room is big. Two: those girls that went with him to Planeptune were there, and they did _not_ look happy. Three: There was an honest-to-God _fairy_ in front of him, who also didn't look happy.

_What… the *hic* hell? Did I drink the wrong bottle? I thought alcohol wasn't a *hic* hallucinogen. I mean, maybe it is if you drink too much. But half *hic* a bottle isn't… too much. Not for someone seasoned, anyways. _

"Freeman, what did we say?" asked the fairy, tapping her tiny foot on a book she was standing on.

"Wha?" Freeman slurred back. He recognized that voice from somewhere.

"Wait a second. Are you _drunk?_" The fairy seemed to widen her eyes in both surprise and disappointment somehow at the same time. IF looked incredulous, and Compa seemed to just want to not be here. Nepgear was nowhere to be found.

"I am not _drunk!_ I am in a new state of _knowledge._ Get your *hic* facts _right_, warden." _Oh dear Neptune,_ thought the fairy, _our savior is an alcoholic._ _And denies it._ IF decided to butt in with the next question, her eyes narrowing at the strange liquid on the legs of Freeman's suit. "Did you _puke?_ Wait, don't answer that, don't answer that." IF tried to keep the bile in her own stomach from rising up. Ignoring her objections, Freeman replied anyway in his inconsistent grasp of the ability to speak clearly. "So *hic* what? It's a biological response. I puke, you puke, we _all_ puke. Isn't that _wonderful? _Humanity's bound together by this! We should _celebrate it!_" At that line, IF decided to quickly excuse herself from the room, running off to the nearest restroom, and Compa hurriedly followed.

"Doctor, we specifically _told you_ to not cause any trouble. And now you brought an entire bag of ASIC contraband right into the Basilicom! What could have gone through your head that made you think that was a good idea?" Not even realizing what he was saying, Freeman brought out his truth - well, indirectly. "Man, I think I'm _high. _I guess those chips really do work!" The Oracle's face displayed a look of horror and confusion at the same time. "_High?_ What did you think…" She trailed off as she filled in the blanks. But Gordon decided to hike on.

"I'll be honest, fairy warden, this dungeon experience seems to be a bit dull. I expected more shanks made out of a toothbrush present, and there *hic* hasn't been a murder since the time I got here. I don't know how your prisoner ethical code works yet, but I thought it would be a bit looser than this. *hic* You can take me back now, I think I can figure out the orientation *hic* by myself."

The fairy didn't want to talk anymore, and so she sighed. "Alright, Doctor. I think I could yell at you more, but it's best to do it when you're sober. If you were wondering, Nepgear's fine, by the way." _Not that you'd probably care, _thought the fairy. "The staff has the room prepared for you. Get some rest, and we'll hold a meeting tomorrow. A staff member will lead you to it. Good night."

_Alright, alright. I get it, Grimm's bookworm. Guess *hic* I'm __**not**_ _going back to jail. That's fine too. Considering how I haven't seen __**one**_ _riot there, I don't think I'll like that place very much._ As the poor unfortunate staff member escorted Gordon to his quarters, he continued his tangent. _I still don't know if that fairy lecturing me is the ward… oh, __**shit. That *hic* was the genie! **__I remember that voice now! God, I was __**close!**_ _Usually my guesses aren't right unless it's about quantum physics or how retarded things are, but this time I wasn't far off! *hic* So that means I wasn't __**high**__, then. Damn it. Y'know, when I thought I was high, I thought that maybe those chips were, like, a slow-acting drug that you take when you touch it. Maybe they still have that kinda thing here! But wait, that wouldn't be practical. You'd need to wear gloves or something, and there really wouldn't be a way to save it for later - it's buy it, have it now! Maybe that __**would**_ _work if it was like a thing that-_

"Sir, your room is here. Please take a shower," replied the staff member, "and please do not cause any more havoc." As Gordon entered his new home, the staff member shut the door behind him, hoping he wouldn't just open it five minutes later and cause another scene.

_Wow, that guy is __**rude.**_ '_Please take a shower, Freeman.' This is my room, I can do whatever the hell I __**please!**_ _Some people *hic* just have no respect for me. __**That**_ _theory was tested over and over! And every time, it's the same result. Some people have no respect. I think I should shower, though. This puke isn't going to go over well with the general public. Can't show my talent with a dirty suit! The bathroom should be this door. Ah yeah, that's it._

* * *

After his shower and getting dressed with clothes provided to him in the room, he proceeded to lay in bed, questioning his choices made today.

_I don't regret __**anything**_ _I did today._

So that was a lie.

_Yeah, I mean, there are __**some**_ _*hic* things that I didn't __**like**__, like the giant hatchet machine, or the human amplifier. Or the fake drugs, and how there seems to be an alcohol drought in the city's bar forecast. Or the fact that I'm definitely __**not**_ _on Earth anymore and the jackass scientists are probably laughing at that. But these things happen! And I like to think I handled it well. These snobs might think I'm a drunk lunatic, but *hic* really, I'm not a lunatic. I'm just drunk._

Freeman absentmindedly grabbed a remote at his bedside and turned on his huge high-definition flatscreen TV. Wait.

_**Woahhh. Damn**__, this thing is huge! And oh my God, look at how clear it is! _He could now experience… Planeptunian cooking in the highest resolution he ever saw on a TV screen to date. _I know it's the __**future**__, but *hic* damn, this stuff must have had millions of dollars poured into it! People on Earth would __**kill**_ _for something like this. I know I would. Man, what's the channel changer on this thing? I want to see some *hic* action, not this culinary crap! What's the point of a TV __**this high-quality**_ _if you can't see people getting shot and explosions going off in the distance with it? Is it this button? _After some searching, he found the button to switch channels, and tuned to the next channel - a shower commercial.

_Wow, okay, that's a bit of a coincidence. Give me a shower commercial __**right after**_ _I've finished showering. That's not creepy at all. Are they *hic* watching me here? Do they just watch people shower? That's pretty perverted. Why would you need that? Is someone going to commit a crime in the __**shower?**_ _This __**is**_ _a theocracy, however, so maybe they want to see if people still have faith while showering. Can't *hic* think of other gods while you shower! God, that reminds me though about how I felt so __**naked**_ _while I was showering. I mean, I __**was**_ _naked, but I'm not talking about __**that **__naked. I'm talking about how I was constantly paranoid that one of those bodybuilder aliens was gonna break through my wall like the Kool-Aid Man and then turn me into mush on the floor. __**That**_ _type of *hic* naked. I really don't like these clothes. This isn't enough fabric to stop 9 millimeter rounds. People don't usually *hic* consider that, but I do. I kinda had a __**need**_ _for it. Bullet parties *hic* won't last long if nobody has body armor._

Gordon yawned, and realized it was… 12 AM. _Wow, the time flew, huh? Wait a minute, __**how did these people develop the same time system as us?**_ _Is it just a big coincidence? Was it *hic* aliens? Man, history documentaries would be a lot more interesting if they started talking about how historical things were actually built by aliens. It would definitely bring more people to their film. I can't *hic* think about this stuff now. I'm not gonna be able to sleep. I should probably put on my suit, but… damn it, I can't. I'm too lazy. See, __**this**_ _is what's gonna kill me. One day, I'm gonna not even bother putting on this suit, and __**bam. **__Killed by assassins. Or ninjas! This place *hic* would be __**fucked**_ _if the ninjas came here. Yeah, I'd like to see red-haired screamer at the bar try to sneak past them. But then again, she __**was**_ _quick. I didn't even really __**see**_ _her until she started hugging that chick I was *hic* talking to. Maybe she __**does**_ _have a chance! Alright, that's enough talking for now. I gotta sleep. First time I did __**that**_ _in a while._

With that, Freeman turned out the lights and tucked himself in, awaiting his second day in the interesting new world he found himself in.

_Fade to black._

_I have the feeling that I'm forgetting about something that has to do with the whiskey I drank. Eh, I'll think about it tomorrow._

* * *

**A/N: And that concludes Freeman's first day in Planeptune! I don't think anyone was ready for him. Histoire certainly wasn't! It takes a special kind of man to cause a scene in the Basilicom and then proceed to completely disregard any sense of withholding information when he had to explain himself. What a hero.**

**Next up: The ASIC plan, and Nepgear. Poor CPU Candidate.**


	5. Episode 5

**A/N: Woah, fellas, Episode 5! How far we've come. I guess our introduction is done now. Break time over and such. Now Freeman goes back to the bullet ballet. Well, soon he goes back. First is the planning stage. And that's what's gonna happen!**

**Woah, reviewer! Sergeant Snash: Thanks, man! Trust me, the antics will continue. As seen here!**

**I realize now that Freeman hasn't got much time to interact with characters as much as it should be for a fic like this. Hopefully this chapter starts changing that. Anyways, onto preparing Histoire's meeting discussing the Anti-ASIC Agenda!**

* * *

_Follow the thoughts of Dr. Gordon Freeman, a 27 year old theoretical physicist, neurotic individual, and a unique "hero" to a new strange world. In this episode, Freeman fights the aftereffects, is reminded of duty, and buttons up a meeting room._

* * *

His eyes opened, and he remembered what he forgot. Or rather, his body told him what he forgot.

_Ouuhhhhhhh… damn it, I forgot about the __**hangover.**_ _That's what I always forget. Chugging from a keg is great until it feels like the beer is going to blast through your head. Ah, this one's __**bad.**_ _Anyone got some ibuprofen? I won't stash it this time, I swear. Wait…_

Looking around his bed, he then remembered an additional small detail he forgot.

_Oh, right. I'm in bootleg future-Earth. With the fake drugs. Fuck._

Freeman decided to not bother trying to sleep again and began to get himself ready - with some difficulty - to begin another day… of something. He hadn't decided yet.

_Yeah, should have expected that one. Actually, if I woke up __**not**_ _having this hangover, I probably __**would**_ _have expected that one. I didn't expect aliens. I didn't expect soldiers. I didn't expect ninjas. But fool me thrice, and… I forgot where I was going with this. Too much throbbing right now. I'll get back to it later. Point is, the movies are all too cliché with this stuff. You wake up and expect everything to suddenly be normal. I don't have that excuse anymore! Actually, I never __**did**_ _ever since that one time in Vienna. Honestly, how was I supposed to know about the walking mermaids watching me sleep?! Wait, are they here right now?!_

Suddenly scanning his room one more time for any walking mermaids, he returned to his thoughts once his findings read negative as he brushed his teeth and put on his suit.

_I guess not. If they tried to follow me, they're probably all dead in Black Mesa anyways. Yet another point for the government! Or rather, another hazard. Eh, not my problem. They can do whatever they want with 'em, I give my approval. Just as long as __**I'm**_ _not there. Oh, there's a window. I wonder if… no, can't open it. Guess I have to go to the top to hock a loogie. Actually, thinking about it, it's probably better to hock one from the top of a building. Now, some people think that a loogie hocked from that height will kill you, but in reality, the air resistance would make sure it doesn't do much. That would be a __**sweet**_ _way to kill someone, but really I would do it so that it just confuses them or pisses them off. I'd have to time it so that it would fall right in their hair, or maybe some food in their hand, really just whatever's the best place for it to land so I can maximize the fun. And when I land it, oh man, they're gonna look for where that came from and just be __**lost. **__Bombs away!_

Feeling safe once again in his hazard suit, Freeman was ready! Ready to watch TV, that is. What, did you think he was going to _do_ something? Not now. Too much pain.

_Ah, the television! The best cure for a hangover. Yeah… God, my head hurts. Considering the state of the drug industry here, I don't think I'm going to get any help with that. For such an advanced future, they sure don't seem to understand __**basic chemistry.**_ _Well, like I said yesterday, this place __**is**_ _a theocracy. Maybe they think that this kind of stuff is only for the high priests. Yeah, create a synthetic compound around a fire while chanting in some dead language. Can't just let any average Joe mess with this stuff __**here.**_

Hungover, bored, but glad he doesn't have to get into any fights that he didn't start anymore, Freeman turned the power on and let the dreck flow.

* * *

Gordon continued his entertainment binge for the next thirty minutes before a knock at his door interrupted his blank stare. "Mr. Freeman? The Oracle requests your presence in the meeting room as soon as possible."

_What does __**she**_ _want? I graced this place with __**my **__presence and her guards threw me into a dungeon! I don't think Tinker Jailer over in her comfy office realizes she's entitled to __**jack shit**_ _from me. I'm not going to follow blindly-_

"Mr. Freeman? She needs you to help with some buttons and to set up things."

"Fine, give me a minute…" replied Freeman. _Buttons. Fine, at least she knows how to __**bribe**_ _me. But after this, I'm not going to follow a wannabe "I earned a PhD in literature" pixie's every command. I'm __**done**_ _playing nice with them. If they want me, they'll need to __**beg**_ _for me._

Coming out of the room, he looked down at the staff member - a small green-eyed blonde maid, no higher than four foot nine. "I'll take you straight to her, Mr. Freeman, right away. You're getting to become pretty talked about around the Basilicom. I don't know why they're talking about you, but you seem like a tall guy, and I think you can be a great role model for the nation. Planeptune really needs…"

Tuning out the exposition of the maid, Freeman thought about what he _had_ heard. _A great role model! See? Now __**that**_ _is someone who gets me. She would be a __**great**_ _replacement for the nagger-in-chief here! Just strap some paper wings and a book to her, and we're set! Now, if she can convince __**others**_ _that I'm a great role model, we'd __**really**_ _be on the right track. The how doesn't even matter to me - I wouldn't mind a change in my worship status! Executing a coup on a theocracy is probably the best kind of coup you could do. Guess who's the new god in town __**now?**_

Before long, the pair made it to the same familiar waiting room that Freeman was just presenting himself to last night, and once more, as the maid checked him in to the receptionist and left, Gordon waited. Not but a few minutes later, the receptionist called his name again - with a bit of weariness in her voice - and the doors opened, the book fairy peeking in and gesturing for him to enter.

As Freeman shut the door behind him, he didn't even bother to greet the fairy, simply looking around for the buttons he was promised. Noticing his behavior, Histoire only let out a tiny (and adorable) sigh before speaking first. "Doctor Freeman, we aren't in the meeting room yet."

"_Then why the hell did you bring me here?!_ You promised this! The maid said _buttons_, and-"

"We will **get** to the meeting room soon. I just wanted to have a talk with you first. You will get your buttons. I promise."

Freeman snorted. "Yeah, you'd better promise," he muttered under his breath. Historie didn't even bother averting her sharp gaze at the physicist in response. "I heard that."

_Shit._

"Doctor Freeman, before we start, I have to talk about your conduct here so far in Planeptune."

_Blah blah blah._

"While we are indebted to you for saving our CPU Candidate, this does not mean you are given free will to cause ridiculous scenes or to bring illegal contraband into the Basilicom."

"_Oh, Freeman, we can't allow you to live life! You have to follow the purple Bible, just like me!"_

"Your actions and intoxication in the Basilicom lobby have not only disturbed the people around you,"

"_You can't do that Freeman, the guests will leave bad reviews, and we can't throw people into the dungeons if they stop coming to the hotel!"_

"but also began to spread a bad reputation among some of the Internep regarding our Basilicom."

"_Your actions weren't right, Freeman, how will I get my pay raise and my reputation on the Internep now?" Wait, Inter__**nep**__? Wh-_

"If this continues, our Shares will be in further danger of falling."

"_Come on, Freeman, if you keep doing those mean things we can't share stuff!" But wait, no, seriously, why does the word "Internet" end with a-_

"Are you even listening?"

Deciding to not want to be yelled at further and have her words repeated to him again like a record, Freeman nodded. "Yeah, I wanted to agree with you, but if you didn't know I have this disease called mature selective mutism. It means I couldn't talk for some time there. You probably know about it, you're all progressive, you understand." Historie could not formulate a response that wasn't completely impolite, and just decided to continue her lecture, hoping that the doctor at least was subconsciously taking in the words. He wasn't.

"Doctor Freeman, as much as you've shown us you're an alcoholic, a drug addict, a disturber of the peace, and more likely than not having other detestable characteristics no one here has seen yet, you are still an asset to us, and Gamindustri still calls upon you to help do your duty to the world. Please understand that, and please try to at least mature with that knowledge in mind."

_Thhhhffffftttt! Yeah, mature! Blowing raspberries at people whenever someone talks like that is the only way to __**live! **__You wouldn't understand!_

"Can you at least acknowledge that?"

Gordon blinked. "Oh, right, yeah. Sorry, that mature selective mutism happened again, so I couldn't think about what you were saying. But yeah, I get you."

Historie was about to finally fire back with her own snark before a knock came at the door. "Miss Oracle, the meeting room needs attending to. It's scheduled to start in about fifteen minutes, and Miss IF and Miss Compa are already waiting." The book fairy drooped her eyes and replied back. "Yes, I'll get to it right away. Thank you for letting me know." With a look that said 'Freeman please don't cause any trouble today', Historie spoke once more to Gordon. "Now that we have established some things, let us hurry to the meeting room. The workers placed a few of the buttons… rather... _inconsiderately_ regarding… height… and I would need… someone… to help me with that." She said the last parts said rather quietly, her head looking down at her book as she said them.

Freeman did not seem to realize Historie had essentially admitted with some degree of shame she was too short to set up a meeting room and replied back. "Fine by me! Buttons help me too. Don't worry about being too lazy to push them, **I **got this. Lead the way." On that note, Historie looked up once again and motioned for Freeman to follow her.

_Yeah, alright, this is good. Lecture time over, finally. __**Now**_ _we're getting down to business! Of buttons. Button business. Hm. I could make that a thing. "Freeman's Big Button Business", for all of your big buttons at bottom-breaking prices. I don't know, it could work. Even in the __**future, **__people still love to push buttons. At least, I __**think.**_ _I __**hope**_ _they do, because otherwise, I really can't empathize with them in any other way. Sorry, you're just not my type._

The walk to the meeting room didn't take long at all, and before Freeman realized it he was at the room pushing the first button he saw - which resulted in a loud alarm, the windows around the room closing metal shutters, and red lights to flash all over the room. "Freeman!"

_Hey, it's not my fault the button for the __**panic room**_ _is big, red, and shiny! What made you think I was gonna assume that?!_

"Can't you read the label?! The one that says 'do not push unless there's an emergency'?!" Historie cried out, grabbing a remote and disabling the alarm, with the rest of the features of the big red button being disabled with it. Gordon looked down at the label again. "Uh. Yeah. Totally did. Totally intentional. Maybe there _was_ someone who wanted to make an emergency, and that scared them off! You don't know!"

"_Do not push unless emergency." I had a __**boredom**_ _emergency, I'm pretty sure that counts as a reason for pushing the button! That's the kind of wording that I hate, the vague double-meaning cryptic bullshit kind. "Emergency." Yeah, I'll show you an emergency. Wait, did you disable that with a __**remote? **__If you can't reach these buttons or something, __**why not just put all the buttons in the remote?**_ _I'm seeing the same crap over and over again! No one here knows how to __**design**_ _stuff!_

A knock at the meeting room door interrupted Freeman's thoughts for the second time today. He certainly wasn't liking this trend. Historie, however, seemed a little more surprised than the last time someone knocked. "That's odd. The meeting should start ten minutes from now. Who would be… unless…" With a confused look on Gordon's face and an increasingly shocked look on Historie's, the meeting door opened for itself - and the CPU Candidate of Planeptune, sort of awake, peered into the room. "G-good morning."

Freeman spoke while Historie was still computing what she was seeing. "Uh, hi? Little busy here." Nepgear squinted her eyes a little. "You l-look familiar to me. Did… um... I saw o-orange when I first woke up. Um… And… you're wearing the s-same shade of orange." Gordon was completely unfazed at her confusion. "Yeah, usually, the color of orange stays orange. This kinda stuff isn't hard to learn, even if you just woke up from your beauty nap or whatever. You'd do good as an engineer. I think-"

The ever-so-biting wit of the theoretical physicist was interrupted by Historie. "Nepgear?!" The girl having the name acknowledged by the fairy turned to look at her. "H-Historie?"

"I didn't expect that you would wake so soon! The graveyard _must_ have drained you!" the fairy squeaked. "I…" She seemed to want to say something else, but couldn't move any further than the first word.

"I… I do feel t-tired and… confused… Where's everyone else? How… what's the situation in Gamindustri?"

Historie seemed ready to answer, but decided against it at the last moment. "We'll talk about this… this later, during the meeting. And you and the man next to me can introduce yourselves to each other then as well. I understand if you can't attend the meeting due to you just awakening." At that line, Nepgear seemed to toughen up. "N-no! I can attend! I-it's not a problem, Histoire!"

Freeman decided then was the moment to interrupt. "Look, I'm not stupid. You're just trying to seem _strong_ and _responsible_ even though you don't know what the hell is going on. Maybe that seems admirable to winged book fair enthusiast over here, but **I** know better. That kind of attitude got you **killed** back in Black Mesa. I mean, look at the military! Everyone **there **tried to be the brave hero, and then they started shooting everything that moved because they didn't understand what 'noncombatant' meant! You don't understand how this kind of stuff works, do you? You're gonna learn the hard way."

Both females looked over in Gordon, one morbidly curious, the other starting to form tears in her eyes. Still naive, they waited for an explanation on what he meant by "Black Mesa" and "shooting everything that moved". But unfortunately for them, Freeman kept pushing buttons and moving items around, not answering any of their silent questions. Finishing up with moving chairs, he took another look at the purple-haired girl.

_Ah, damn it, she's starting to cry. Alright, I don't want to hear all this depressive crap coming from her, and I can't pick up chicks if they hear about this - which they __**will**_ _\- so I guess I'll "cheer her up". However that's gonna happen. _

"Fine, listen. I guess I'm too _harsh_ all of a sudden. Hey, are you _listening? _Listen to me." Nepgear now turned his head up to indeed confirm to Gordon that she was fighting back tears. "Look. I guess I'm just _jaded, _even if I'm _right, _which I am. Point is, if you don't know who to shoot, then they'll shoot you. Alright, now stop crying. That doesn't get you," _Or me,_ "anywhere. What, do you cry when you get something wrong on a test? When someone gets more candy than you on Halloween? I don't know who you _are_, but considering how this fairy seems to react, and based on the fact that you were guarded by a big-ass axe-murdering machine, you seem kinda important to this whole operation! So stop moping when someone tells you the _truth_ and just learn from me. You happy now?"

Historie, for the second time in three minutes, was shocked. Freeman being _inspirational?_ Showing _care for others?_ Where did _this_ come from? Wherever it came from, she hoped it was a start of a great change within Freeman, a character development arc that would transform him into a better person, starting with a speech that he must have done to cheer someone up out of the goodness of his heart.

_There. Now I don't have to hear about any future dates shrieking about how I made some girl cry, like, __**once. **__I hope she's happy; she __**better**_ _be, or else I need to find another way to make sure she doesn't talk about this._

Oh, how much she had to learn, ironically. Thankfully for both Freeman and her, Nepgear took the words he said into consideration and won the battle against her tears. "Y-you're right. I can't… even though I couldn't…"

The blue-eyed tome decided to finish off the immediate guilt. "I have to apologize, Nepgear. It was I who sent you to the Graveyard, and I did not realize my mistake. I cannot express how deeply I regretted sending you there that day. The meeting will cover all of your questions. IF and Compa will be there too." She looked back at Gordon to check on how far along the preparations were. On that note, the last objects he had to move were done, and the buttons needed to be pressed were all pressed. The meeting room was ready - earlier than she expected - and after thanking Freeman, decided to call the meeting early as a result, requesting through the remote to bring in IF and Compa.

It didn't take long before another knock at the door sounded, and after being invited in, IF and Compa's eyes both widened at the person next to Histoire. "Nepgear!?" they both exclaimed at the same time.

_Fade to black._

"Y'know, I'm pretty sure I figured out her _name_ the first time around. You don't have to repeat it for me."

* * *

**A/N: And wow, we're done! So yeah, Nepgear's up! And yeah, I do know that in the original Mk2, Nepgear woke up much later than the day after. But, for the sake of plot, things gotta happen kinda quick. I couldn't see much I could write if Freeman took a couple days, and it would be kinda repeating, so in all honesty, it's probably better this way for me. I'd like to hear the opinions of you guys, though!**

**Thanks for everyone who's reading, once again. This kinda stuff was stuff I didn't expect to get so many people interested, so I'm glad you all are enjoying it!**

**Also, while I worried in the 1st episode about Freeman being portrayed wrong, I seem to have overestimated my ability to write Neptunia characters well. I'll try to correct that next chapter at the very least. So, yeah guys, peace for now!**


	6. Episode 6

**A/N: Like two same sides of a magnet repelling each other, the next episode of Freeman's Mind in Neptunia is here. Three cheers for insanity!**

**Yeah, I knew this took a little longer to publish than the last episodes. Some stuff kept me busy, so. Anyways, the gang all now plots together to defeat ASIC! Not with agreement, of course.**

**Guest reviewer: **_**A quiet "oof" is heard in the distance.**_

**Ptl: Nah, Shepard didn't make it. Plus, I wouldn't say that Freeman got directly transported into the **_**game**_**, I'd say he entered a parallel universe of some sort. But yeah, I guess I can imagine everyone does the whole hammerspace thing. Guess that's my first retcon!**

**Man, Neptune's not gonna hold back on the lampshading when **_**she's**_ **freed.**

* * *

_Follow the thoughts of Dr. Gordon Freeman, a 27 year old theoretical physicist, neurotic individual, and a unique "hero" in a new strange world. In this episode, Freeman props up his opinion and gets re-employed._

* * *

As IF and Compa ran towards Nepgear to ask her questions and just generally welcome her back with a quick hug, Freeman had more to say. Or rather, think.

_Yeah, I guess no one told me about the "welcome the bondage freak" party we're having here. I guess the __**meeting**_ _will be postponed. Can't rush __**that thing.**_ _I mean, I'm not complaining! I never liked meetings; that's why I always said I had to train for the decathlon! God, that was so long ago. I guess we did host it in a way - running from aliens and bullets __**would**_ _count as running. Then there was all the other objects in the facility, so you'd have to __**jump**_ _over things. Add up everything I had to do, and yeah, I guess I got my excuse! Of course, I think the pretense of an extraterrestial __**invasion **__would give other people an excuse too, but I don't care about them. They can show off their graphs to the army all they want since they like organized colors so much. Have fun with __**that!**_

The CPU Candidate looked around the room, her eyes not seeming to settle on anything - everything seemed the same, but yet it felt off, different. She wasn't accustomed to this. She… she failed. And now… Planeptune might be at the lowest Share count it has ever seen. Nepgear didn't know the magnitude of the damage, and some part of her did not want to find out. But… she had to know. She _had_ to know. She had to fix this.

"Gear?" IF seemed to share the concern in Nepgear's eyes. "Snap out of it, Gear. We need to start the meeting." Gear snaped back to attention. "Y-yes, we must."

_Damn it, I guess I can't sneak out now. These people better make this quick. If we're gonna be here past an hour, I'm just going to __**walk.**_

Histoire cleared her throat and began to address the room. "Take a seat, everyone. I appreciate your help for setting up this room, Doctor Freeman." After everyone proceeded to sit down, and in Freeman's case, prop his legs up on the table, the Oracle continued. "We all know what this meeting is about, so let's not make any introductions."

Gordon piped up at that point. "Actually, I know I'm supposed to be your _chosen one_ or whatever, but I still don't know what you called us here for. Apparently everyone thought it was a good idea to just _leave me behind_ on the facts_._" The fairy glanced at him, trying to ignore Freeman not even bothering to display some form of politeness. "I believe IF told you about ASIC, didn't she?"

"Yeah, I wasn't listening."

IF shook her head and Historie only closed her eyes for a few seconds, emitting a sigh that seemed to become only more common for her to use. "Well, Doctor, ASIC, short for the Arfoire Syndicate of International Crime, is essentially - well, it's in the name. Their ultimate goal is to take over our Shares and revive their deity they worship, Arfoire."

Freeman contemplated her explanation and then spoke. "Mobsters, huh? So what, we're dealing with some Godfather stuff? Steals money, kills people, eats Italian food? Your _police_ can't handle this kind of stuff?" While IF looked confused at his references, she did answer Gordon's last question. "Oh, we tried, but one of the problems here is that they have guns. A lot of them. Not only that, but they recruit people on the daily, and their influence reaches a lot of places nowadays."

The Oracle continued the conversation from there. "This is why we need a plan - a plan to start fighting back. Doctor, for three years, we've sat and watched as ASIC kept getting more and more powerful, and not only hurt us, but the other nations of Gamindustri too. We can't let this keep happening - at this rate, world domination is a very real possibility for them. If we don't stop them now… we won't be able to ever stop them."

Silence reigned in the room - physical silence, that is.

_Wow, __**really?**_ _You have a Mob with a __**shitload**_ _of weapons running around and converting people or whatever to their cause- no, I take that back! The way __**you're**_ _talking about this, we're dealing with an __**armed guerilla **__running around! You've been fighting these guys for three years- actually, not only just __**you**__, but __**every government on the planet**_ _has been fighting against them for three years, and you're all losing?! I realize your gimp goddesses are all now __**gone**__, but you never prepared for this kinda thing?! __**Theocratic states**_ _aren't usually __**light **__on_ _**internal security**__, guys! If you people knew what you were doing, your Holy Gestapo or whatever should've crushed them the __**moment**_ _they started getting uppity! But no! Now you have a revolution on your hands because you decided to twiddle your thumbs or whatever when __**armed resistance**_ _started to recruit people! That is __**not**_ _how I would rule my theocracy._

Compa decided to break the silence with her own prior observation. "Mister Doctor, you arrived in the Graveyard carrying weapons, didn't you? When you had that shotgun pointed at us-" "_**What?!" **_

Nepgear's shout rang out across the entire floor of the Basilicom, with her unreadable eyes glaring at Freeman. "_You pointed a weapon at my __**friends?!**_" Gordon didn't decide to deescalate the situation. "Hey, don't start with this! I didn't start **shit!** They wanted to play horror movie villain with a **death machine** running around! They were asking for a surprise, so I gave them a **surprise!**"

All other parties involved, even the friends in question, had their mouths agape at the sudden shift in emotion from the normally reserved and friendly CPU Candidate. This inaction, of course, allowed the argument to continue.

"_That __**never**_ _gives you the right to do something like that! You could have killed them!"_ The verbal salvos continued. "Yeah, maybe they should have **realized that** earlier when I pulled out a rocket launcher! Do you **not** understand that people are gonna kill you if you don't kill them?! Didn't I tell you this?! Maybe you should have been thankful I didn't shoot them **on sight!**"

Gear couldn't fathom his last sentence. "_I… you… __**you**_ _should be thankful you haven't been banished from Planeptune __**entirely!**_ _Someone l-like you is no better than ASIC!"_ Compa's expression clearly showed regret now for starting the argument, and Nepgear herself wasn't keeping her angry tone steady - the tone becoming shriller, the words becoming more spaced and sorrowed, the internal frustration and self-hatred of three years of Gamindustrian chaos and decline, all thanks to her failure, spilling out onto the theoretical physicist.

"Yeah, I'm no better than the **armed resistance trying to overthrow your country! **What if I **did** join them, if you don't want me here?! Do you **not know** how many **armed military personnel **I killed?! Your government wouldn't even stand a **chance!** Face it, deathwish-in-training, trying to be Judge Judy for stuff I don't even **think about **now isn't going to end well!"

The increasingly volatile pressure-cooker of emotions within Nepgear couldn't handle it much longer. "_Why… w-why do you have to be so… s-so __**terrible?! How c-could anyone l-l-like you even… even exist?! **__M-my friends w-worked for th-three y-years to save everyone - save __**Gamindustri,**_ _**a-and you had to… **__you_ _t-threatened to __**murder**_ _**them**__! I-if i-it was-wasn't for __**you**__, they would have- would have- would..."_

Gordon felt the tide change, and presented to the astonished room his final argument. "What, serving **a fat load of guilt tripping **with your main course of **lies?!** They didn't seem to do much world-saving when they were punched into **rock!** Guess who had to actually **do something?!** I'm not gonna even **bother** with you. You're one of those people who want the world to **burn.**"

The only response Freeman recieved was the sound of muffled weeping.

* * *

Not one more word was said for five entire minutes. Looks were cast at each other, some of pure hatred, some of concern, some of uncaring, and some of genuine uncertainty of what will happen next. The only thing that remained constant was the thick atmosphere in the air and the ever-so-harrowing sound of tears going down Nepgear's face for the second time since she awoke.

_Great. This is __**fun. **__I guess I'm going to be driven out on a __**rail**_ _now. I committed the __**unforgivable**_ _sin of __**being right**__, so now everyone throws a hissy fit at me. This gets real old real fast. Well, we've been here silent since __**forever**__, so I guess I have to try and speak __**again.**_ _Right, how do we start this…_

"Alright, we've had enough **quiet time**, kids, so let's get on with our lesson: how are we gonna destroy the evil underground army?"

Dead silence.

"Anyone?" _Jesus Christ, this girl cannot stop_ _**crying. **_

The next one to take the plunge was IF, the venomous undertone present within every word in her voice. "Yeah, I've got an idea. How about we send _**you**_ in?"

_Oh, she has to be fucking __**kidding.**_

"Of course. I should have expected **that one**. Alright, does anyone _**else**_ have an idea?"

IF pressed on with hers, despite Gordon's objections. "Just look at what you have and what you did. Not only are you the tallest one here, and probably taller than 95% of Gamindustri's population, you're also equipped with at least two weapons and an explosive projectile device." _It's called a __**rocket launcher**__, lady, _responded Freeman internally. "Your reaction time is pretty fast considering how quick you turned the shotgun on us, and you seem to know how to handle it. You're already a match for an ASIC grunt, and I have a feeling that adding a few more will only change the odds marginally towards them."

"Okay, listen here. I've had enough people shooting at me, alright? I'd like to **minimize** the number of bullets fired at me." _I think I'm getting the impression this girl wants me __**dead.**_ _I also have the feeling I kinda walked into this one, though. This is what happens when you don't account for the fact you're talking to teenage girls. They send you to a death by firing squad. I mean, just look at a Backstreet Boys concert. Just look at the audience! Tell me __**right now**_ _one of those people __**wouldn't**_ _cut my head off with a guillotine if I made one of their singing saps cry. Oh, they'll want it that way, alright._

IF only smirked and kept on going. "I'm sorry, Freeman. I wasn't aware that you couldn't be able to handle it. Perhaps we'll have to come up with another idea, maybe find someone more badass than you…"

Gordon knew what she was doing, alright. He hated it. "Oh _yeah?_ You think you can _find _someone like that?"

IF replied back. "Yeah, I think I can. It shouldn't be too hard if _you're too scared to fight._"

_Oh, it's on, bitch. I see right through your game! You think you can outsmart me?_

"You're delusional! I can fight better than **anybody** here! You think I'm too chicken to cap some dumbass currency dealer?! Nobody can beat the Freeman!"

It took a lot of effort from IF not to shake her head and start laughing. For a theoretical physicist, he was pretty easy to checkmate. "Then prove it to me. How about this? Once we take down a couple of ASIC bases, I'll believe you."

"_**I AM NOT A CHICKEN! BAWK BAWK BAWK, BAWK BAWK!"**_

At that point, IF couldn't hold back, and just started to laugh at the "great" Freeman walking around the room making chicken noises. Oh, she still despised him, of course. But for now, she obtained not only her goal, but a bonus with it.

With IF beginning to pound her fist on the desk from laughter and Histoire simply floating, sporting the most accurate "I really don't want to be here right now" face in all of Gamindustrian history, Nepgear finally looked up to Compa, who went up from her seat and went to the CPU Candidate, bringing her mouth to Gear's ear and whispering - "_Ge-Ge, I think Planeptune's going to come down with a case of insanity soon."_

And for the first time in a long while, Nepgear smiled.

* * *

Ten more minutes passed until the situation calmed down enough for Histoire to return to the ability of speech. "...I… I _think_ everyone in this room is in agreement of IF's plan?" IF smiled (Freeman thought he could see a small bit of evil in that smile) and nodded, Compa raised her hand, Nepgear absentmindedly called out a "yeah", and Gordon… well…

"Let's go **kick** **some ass!**"

Well, at least he wasn't pretending to be a chicken anymore.

The Oracle nodded to confirm the vote. "Then we're all in agreement. Freeman, you've been nominated to spearhead the assault on the ASIC headquarters around Planeptune and other nations - with the approval of their Oracles, of course. Consider it an honor."

"Yeah, yeah, honor, that's cool. What's the plan? Attack at 1300 hours?"

Historie corrected his assumption. "No, no, no attacking yet."

"Aw."

"ASIC is a large organization, and we need to get you some quests at the Guild done so you can earn credits and familiarize yourself with Planeptune as a whole. We can also gain some Shares that way and combat ASIC's growth - hold them off for a bit, so to speak. IF, you, Nepgear, Doctor Freeman, and Compa should all go to the Guild right away to sign our new friend up for Guild quests and get some practice fighting done. Nepgear, you especially would come in handy for these quests - I'm sure your transformation can very much show Doctor Freeman how important you are to regaining our Shares. The news of you back already halted ASIC's Share increase, so for a little while at least, we have an opportunity to regain influence among the people."

_Transformation? What, does she turn into a plant or something? Yeah, that'll show 'em. You go get them, big girl. Now- __**goddammit, I got played.**_ _Fuuuuuck. This always happens! What I __**should**_ _have done when two-lettered devil over there called me a quitter is just __**walk out!**_ _Yeah, guess I'm __**not**_ _badass enough! Maybe I'll just go to the guerilla __**instead!**_ _Jesus Christ, now what? Well… okay, I do want to get __**money**_ _\- __**legit**_ _money, or at least less obvious __**fakes.**_ _So I guess I'll go with them to this Guild place and do that, maybe watch Plant Girl brush someone with a leaf, and after that… okay, I'll just think about this after they sign me up. I'm sure I won't forget._

* * *

Freeman's second walk through the Planeptunian streets wasn't as interesting as the first, but the city still attracted his attention.

_Well, okay. I know this is a dystopian semi-dictatorship and all that being attacked by an insurgency, but these buildings __**are**_ _kind of nice. That park next to us seems pretty cool too. Man, I haven't really seen many __**green**_ _things recently. No, wait, the aliens had green around them when they teleported. But that's not __**good**_ _green! That's the green that tells you you're about to __**die!**_ _This __**tree**_ _won't tell you you're about to die! It just drops the coconut on you without warning! But this isn't a palm tree, so I guess it won't be a coconut that kills me. Maybe lightning. I don't know, can those goddesses control the weather? That would be __**sick**__. Wouldn't want to piss_ _**them**_ _off!_

Yet while Freeman paid attention to Planeptune, Planeptune started to pay more attention to his group.

"Purple Sister! Purple Sister, wait!"

"CPU Candidate, are you going to stop ASIC?"

"Nepgear! Sign my shirt!"

After a few dozen more camera flashes and people… turning their back to the group with their phone raised up, pointed at themselves? Gordon was a bit confused by that. But he was starting to get annoyed with all the people interrupting their walk.

_Oh my god, can none of you people just __**shut up and stop looking?**_ _I don't __**like**_ _this much publicity when it's not directed towards me! "Oh, Nepgear, let me prostrate myself in front of you, oh, I almost forgot, let me give you my burnt offerings! My free will means nothing to me! All hail!" You don't have this kind of crap in New York! You can be the most famous actor in the __**world**_ _there and no one would bat an eye. They just keep walking. I wish this city followed __**that**_ _principle. _

A few more minutes of impromptu paparazzi later, Gordon was just about to snap when he saw the Guild building, surrounded by the "Adventurer's Plaza". IF explained the idea to Freeman as he looked around the complex. "Right, you can probably tell we're here. The big twin-spire building you see in front of you is the actual Guild hall, which is where we're gonna go to sign you up. Around it are a bunch of other places an adventurer like you might want to consider going to at some point. Weapon shops, magic shops, archery ranges, laser weapon arena, you get the gist - I think."

"Woah, woah, woah! Back up a minute! Hold on a second! Did you just say they have... an **archery **range here?"

"Yeah, they do, but honestly, the people over there are just… weird. They're like a bunch of history nerds. You probably wouldn't enjoy their company."

_Man, screw those nerds! They have an __**archery**_ _range here! That's __**sweet**__. I always wanted to do archery! Now, some people want to do archery for the 'sport', or for the 'thrill', or whatever. That's boring! You have a __**sharp-pointed flying projectile**_ _and you only want to do it for 'sport'? They have __**no idea**_ _what they can do if they can calculate trajectories just right. William Tell shot an arrow through an apple on top of a guy's head, but I was thinking of something more along the lines where if someone pissed me off, I can knock an arrow __**right**_ _between their legs. If I "miss", then they just __**run. **__If I don't miss, then the guy doesn't have to pass his stupidity down the line, so I still win. Serves them __**right.**_

"You're staring into space again, Freeman."

"What? Um… ah. Yeah, you can continue the tour now, but don't expect any tips."

IF quickly appended another sentence to her mental five-page evidence book of Freeman being slightly insane, and motioned for everyone to come inside the main building.

The Guild wasn't much of a lively place as Freeman expected it to be - much of it was steel, cold walls, littered with screens with information about things Freeman could not even understand in the slightest. The place was rather empty, with only a few people hanging around, looking at screens or talking to the registrar at a glass booth ahead of him.

Freeman summed up his first thought in speech. "Jeez, could this place be any more dead?"

"Well, the Guild isn't ever really _packed, _but today seems kinda slow. It gets better," IF replied, "and besides, this place isn't really here for that much of a hang-out. There's other places in the Plaza for that."

_Yeah, alright, sure. Wow, they really __**nail**_ _the look of somewhere I don't wanna be again! Man, I'm __**overjoyed**_ _that they designed this place so that every time I visit it I'm reminded of my __**previous**_ _job. Round of applause. Bravo._

IF and co. walked up to the registrar booth, with IF and the rest of the party standing aside for the five-foot eight physicist towering down upon the clerk manning the booth. "_Gentlemen first, Freeman._"

"Yeah, go to hell," replied Freeman as quiet as he could say things, which avoided detection this time. Probably.

The clerk, a lady with brown eyes and short hair, greeted Freeman first with a smile he couldn't decipher as real or fake, and said. "You must be new around here! Welcome to the Guild. How can I help you today?"

Freeman put on his own smile - albeit much more forced. "Hi, I'd like to, uh… register for… fighting monsters, or something. I don't know how this works, and _some_ people don't want to tell me." The clerk's smile grew a bit. "That's fine! All we need is your information to put into our records, and after that you'll be permitted to go on standard low-level quests."

_Low level? What level? I'm __**already**_ _on the highest one! PhDs in theoretical physics don't exactly grow on trees!_ _And perfect, let me put my information __**back**_ _on the grid, just when I thought the authorities having records on me in __**one**_ _world wasn't enough. Then again, that fairy probably already knows everything __**about**_ _me anyways, so, whatever._

"Seems good, I guess. So what, name, rank, service number, date of birth?" The clerk's smile didn't waver, and although Freeman found it slightly cute at first, it started to creep him out just a slight bit.

"Let's take things one at a time. So, yes, your name?"

"**Doctor** Gordon Freeman. Emphasis on the **doctor.** Just don't put that as my first name. I don't need people referring to me as 'Dr. Doctor'."

The clerk typed it in on a computer, and continued on. "Alright, that's in! Now, even though we're a Planeptunian Guild location, we still have to know your allegiance or citizenship. Can you provide a passport, please?"

Freeman blinked in confusion. "Um… passport?"

_Fade to black._

_If I scribbled with blood that I believe in the Elder Gods on a paper, would they take that?_

* * *

**A/N: Hoo boy, this chapter. Alright, so remember when I said in Episode 1 that a big challenge for me's gonna be Freeman? Yeah, that kinda switched on me. You could say Nepgear pulled a big sneaky on me.**

**And yeah, Nepgear. Alright, so, uh, yeah, what she did **_**may**_ **or **_**may not**_ **be in character. I'm not sure. The thing with Neptunia is that I've seen some people criticize the depth of the characters in it, and in all honesty, cardboard cutouts don't make for very good fanfiction. You **_**could**_ **say I wanted to bring my sort of interpretation into the characters… and uh, you would also seem kinda pretentious when you say that, but still. I've talked with my friend who does play Neptunia about it, and while he thinks she might be overreacting, he said he still likes it. At the end of the day, I wanna write something that people enjoy, and I may have to cross a few uncrossed lines in order to do it.**

**But at the end of the day, I am not **_**nearly**_ **as familiar with Neptunia as some of you guys are, and at the end of the day, you're the one who's reading it. So if you think my interpretation/characterization may be a bit wrong, or wrong, or **_**completely and utterly thoroughly wrong**_**, let me know! I really enjoy you guys reviewing my stuff. Even if it's just "Cringe Lol". Yes, guest reviewer, you have a special place in my heart. Don't stab it, though. I would like to stay alive so I can finish this thing.**

**Woo, what a long author's note for a long chapter! I'll see you guys next time around, where Freeman considers the benefits of declaring allegiance to himself right on the spot. Have a good day, everyone!**


	7. Episode 7

**A/N: Well, it's that time of day again where Freeman and company continue their (mis)adventures. Not much else to say! Let's begin!**

* * *

_Follow the thoughts of Dr. Gordon Freeman, a 27 year old theoretical physicist, neurotic individual, and a unique "hero" in a new strange world. In this episode, Freeman considers love and fights out of the blue._

* * *

"Passport, sir?"

_Well, I always knew this was going to happen one day. I'd be fleeing the country for whatever reason, and of course, I always forget to make up an excuse, so I'm just standing there going "Uhh… I belong to Freeman City?" Wait a second, that's __**right! **__I __**claimed**_ _this whole place to myself! And she's asking __**me**_ _for my passport. Ohhhh, just you wait, lady. Just you wait._

Sensing that perhaps Gordon didn't have the slightest idea what the hell he was going to say, IF stepped in to defuse the bomb - that is, the "bomb" of a confused clerk. But to Gordon, it was a bomb!

"Ah, yeah… he just transferred citizenship from Lastation to Planeptune - he doesn't have his papers with him right now. We'll give it to the Guild when we're able to sort that out - moving's chaotic, you know?"

The registrar nodded her head. "I know that feeling. Changing allegiances, finding a new home - yes, I understand. Shall we continue on then, Mr. Freeman?"

_For God's sake, I said __**Doctor**_ _Freeman! __**Doctor! **__Why can't any of you people get this right?!_

A few more questions went by for Gordon to answer, but they were mostly weird ones.

"You're doing great, Mr. Freeman. Now, a couple of questions about preferences are in order for recommendations and such. First of all, do you prefer ranged weapons or melee weaponry?"

_Oh, melee weaponry, my __**specialty!**_ _I just __**love**_ _going toe-to-toe with the giant axe machine and armed gangs with a crowbar._

"Uh… ranged?" The registrar typed his answer in.

"And what exactly are you looking for in a quest?"

"To… get **money?**"

"Ah. Is there any stats you're specialized in?"

_Look, I understand you want me to flesh out my character and all that, but I'm not really into Dungeons and Dragons, alright? I'm not __**that**_ _type of geek. I'm more receptive to playing with hadrons. __**Those**_ _don't need five hours of set-up!_

"Um… no."

The clerk looked up (and up) at Freeman, who nodded his head, hoping that the interrogation would be over. "Alright, Mr. Freeman, we're done! You should be signed up now and ready to take on your first quest. Are the people with you part of a party?"

Before Freeman could question what she meant by "party", IF intervened. "He's with our party, yes. We'll be doing some small low-level quests to brush up on our combat. Dogoos should be on the board, right?"

_What the fuck is a "Dogoo"? I don't like this. Something-_

"Of course. The quest board is over there, so there shouldn't be any trouble." IF nodded and thanked the clerk. "Glad we're done with that," IF whispered. "Alright, Freeman, here's the quest board. I'm going to take this quest, so right now we have a nice and easy job for us all to practice, just a couple of Dogoos. You'll know what they'll look like when you see 'em." Freeman had a couple of choice words for her in his head.

_Wow. "I'll know what they look like when I see it"? I wonder where I heard __**that**_ _before? This is __**not**_ _easing __**any**_ _worries I might have, 'adventurer'. You saying this is __**easy**_ _is like that guard who said I would get that tram working in __**no time.**_ _Everybody that has a weapon __**lies!**_ _I can't trust __**any**_ _of you! Except me, of course. At least I can always trust me._

IF led the party out of the building, headed towards the location of the job - "Virtua Forest", as Gordon heard it - not even bothering to question why these people named places the way they did anymore. After the party set foot, Nepgear, sporting a look of remorse, decided to do something about new guilt sprung from earlier actions - even if Freeman deserved some yelling at.

_Damn it, Plant Girl's leaning towards me. Don't get pervy, Plant Girl! __**Don't get pervy on me!**_

"M-Mister Freeman…"

_**Don't get pervy!**_

"I… um, I…"

_**I swear to God, if you start whispering and rubbing my shoulder, I'm going to call the cops!**_

"I think I want to apologize… for raising my voice… a-and assuming you were something you aren't."

_Oh, okay._

"They… the people that went to rescue m-me are great friends… and…"

_Yeah, yeah, "they mean everything to me", blah blah blah. Look, I __**get**_ _that you're ready to murder anybody that criticizes your friends __**once, **__but really, you don't have to apologize. Unless you plan to bring money to me as an apology gift. __**Then**_ _you can apologize. I've dealt with shittier people before. You yelling at me a little bit and then crying doesn't hold a __**candle**_ _to how people at Black Mesa were treating me. If I wasn't their __**slave**__, I was "too impulsive" and "not following protocol". Those jackboots didn't understand that Office Cart Pong __**was research!**_ _**It always was!**_

"And I can't… thank you enough for helping them to save me… thank you, Freeman."

_Oh yeah, __**big hero alert. **_"_You're such a hero! Let me give you a kiss!" I need to get a whistle, I don't want her staring right in my face when I wake up in the morning. You can stay with your own kind! Honestly, what would I_ _**do**_ _if one of these people fell in love with me? I don't think I'd know how to handle that. Since I first __**saw**_ _aliens, I was fighting them all the way until I got here. And I gotta be honest, these girls are aliens. There's no way they can pass as a Homo sapien from what I've seen so far. __**Plus**__, we aren't on Earth in the first place! They're aliens under __**every condition! **__But these aliens haven't tried to bite me, shock me, spit at me, pelt me with bees, or generally try to murder me yet! Well, not __**directly, **__anyways. Trench coat girl probably still has a hard-on for seeing me be gunned down by hundreds of resistance fighters, but I can live with that!_

Almost as if she heard him, IF turned to look at Gordon, maybe checking that he wasn't currently running away to live among nature. "Just a little more walking, girls. And Freeman." "Mm," he went.

_So, fine, let's consider the options here if someone on this planet has a crush on me. Let's see… alright, trench coat girl. It seems stupid to ask this, but what __**if**_ _she has a crush on me? Her emotional spectrum regarding me seems to range so far from "I guess he's okay" to "I want him to choke on his own __**blood**", but women are weird! Maybe she's doing all this crap so that even though she seems strong and independent and denies it, she just wants to fall in love with some guy and be done with it. But wait, that's stupid!_

At about that moment, Freeman realized what he had just said.

_**Damn it, **__I did that __**again!**_ "_What __**if**_ _she has a crush on me." God, I can't escape this crap. I need to watch my mouth around this planet, I don't want impressionable teenagers learning horrible puns and then throwing them all around me. Not unless I want to be known as "The Teeth-Puncher". Where was I? Oh yeah, right! That kind of thinking is stupid! Yeah, maybe that "I love you but I tell you I hate you" philosophy might work on a_ _**sap**__, but what about someone who doesn't want to be called an idiot every time he wants to go out on a date?! If trench coat girl asked me to date her after she already implied she wanted me to __**die**_ _doing her dirty work, I'm just going to walk off! I don't need this crap in my life!_

Freeman saw the forest some few minutes away, and noticed that Nepgear seemed to still be… a little anxious about something?

_What, Plant Girl can't bother to see her own people? That's not very nice of you. Right, who else… okay, trench coat girl's forager friend, the one in the plaid skirt. I… alright, I don't have an answer for her. She's been nothing but noise to me so far. Maybe… bondage freak? I mean, okay, same principle as before with the "I hate you" thing. But then again, she did apologize, and normally she just seems like some girl who's basically considered "the shy one". So, maybe…? I don't know. If she starts talking about leather a bit more than __**usual**__, I don't think I'm going to stick around after the third date. Alright… uh… the- not the fairy. I think I'd rather live in her dungeon. And that only leaves… well, the chick I talked to back at the __**bar **__was nice! __**And**_ _she said we could chat again __**and**_ _she paid for my drink! That's a lot better of a response than I __**usually**_ _get from people at bars! Yeah, I think she's my best option, but I'm not going to ask first. I have the feeling though I'm forgetting about someone… Oh no, the redheaded tornado siren. **That's** who I forgot. Okay, I __**think **__I remember her talking about wanting to find a __**wife**__, so I think I'm in the clear on that. Thank god. But I really hope she's the __**L**_ _in LGBT, not the __**B.**_ _If she asks me to go out to dinner… I'd think I'd just blow my brains out on the spot, to be honest. No… no, I can't think about that._

Luckily for Gordon, he didn't have to think about anything related to his previous topic, as IF called out that they arrived at their destination.

Compa was the first to speak. "So, Iffy, we'll just let Ge-Ge do her stuff on some Dogoos?" IF quickly affirmed, and added "Don't forget Freeman needs a refreshment, too, from… whatever he did to get his weapons and kill 'hundreds of soldiers'", the last quote sounding somewhat sarcastic.

Gordon of course went on the defensive. "Are you **doubting** me? Do I need to show you what I can do on… whatever you said we had to kill?" IF's light-haired best friend essentially responded for her. "No, Doctor, Iffy's not saying that. What she means is that she just wants to see you get better at fighting before you raid the bases."

"Oh, before **I **raid the bases, huh? You're not even trying to hide your contempt from me either! I heard green-eyed phone zombie over there, and I'm pretty sure she said I killed **hundreds of military soldiers** _**sarcastically! **_**She's** the one that suggested I shoot some more goons because I 'looked tall'! Maybe-"

At that point, Compa tried to speak before IF herself joined in verbally swinging, ready to counter his argument.

"Yeah, and **apparently** you think that even though I said that you can probably take on a few grunts that that means I'll take your claim of somehow killing an **absurd** number of highly-trained army forces seriously!"

Sensing they had to get their viewpoints into Freeman and IF too, Nepgear and Compa both started to pitch in, resulting in yet another chaotic mess of speech that could loosely be defined as an argument.

"**You think that I-**"

"Doctor, she-"

"G-guys, I don't-"

"There's a big **reason** I don't believe-"

"Can't **any** of you-"

"Dogoo!"

"Yeah, that's what **I** said! Dog-"

Everyone stopped talking rather suddenly as the different members of the party either tried to figure out what that was, or more commonly, look around for where it came from.

The source revealed itself pretty shortly after - out of a bush came a blue-colored slime, with black beady eyes, a small black nose and mouth, and a pair of… well, ears that look like a dog's. Gordon's first reaction wasn't very surprising to the girls anymore - point a weapon at it.

"**Okay abomination, stop right there! Tell me what you are right now and I won't hurt you! Or at the very least, roll over!"**

The Dogoo, as it called itself and as Gamindustri called it, simply blinked at Gordon, not even being anywhere close to bothered by Freeman's pistol aimed directly at it. While the rest of the party confirmed their suspicions that the half-insane physicist was indeed armed with more weapons than initially seen, the physicist himself waited for an answer.

"Dogoo?" It only looked confused and blinked.

_Jesus Christ, does this thing even __**care **__I'm pointing a __**gun**_ _at it?! Most animals can at least detect something's __**wrong **__when I do that! The __**aliens**_ _at least did that! Some of the smarter ones, anyways! _

"Dogoo!" The animal decided now was the perfect time to simply leap at Freeman. With no hesitation, Freeman fired his first bullet at it - and missed. "_**Oh, come on!"**_ Dodging out of the way of the animal, he fired his second bullet - which also missed. "_**WHY WON'T YOU JUST DIE?!" **_He fired his third, fourth, and fifth bullets straight after, with these ones finally hitting their target. The Dogoo paused for a second, absorbing the impact, and then simply leapt at Freeman again, not seeming to care about the nine-millimeter rounds entering its body.

_**WHY AREN'T BULLETS STOPPING YOU?! I DON'T HAVE MANY OTHER OPTIONS! **_

After Gordon dodged the rather predictable animal, another four rounds went through the Dogoo's body. This time, finally, the Dogoo stopped for good. "Dogoo." In a not-so-grand display, the animal exploded into (a lot less than it started with) blue slime, marking its place of death.

_Oh god, what did I just walk into?! __**Why did I forget to plan to leave?! WHY DID IT EXPLODE WHEN I SHOT BULLETS AT IT?! NOTHING MAKES SENSE HERE! I HATE IT!**_

"Good kill, Doctor!" Compa beamed at the twitching science warrior, while IF just simply grew a small smirk. "Having fun with your new job, Freeman?" Gordon glared at her, now liking the idea of "kicking monsters' asses" a little less. "**Yeah, real funny, jackass! You could have **_**told me**_ **what exactly I was dealing with here! I didn't realize I would need to waste **_**seven bullets**_ **on **_**one**_ **monster!" **While Compa and Nepgear flinched again at his volume, the recipient of the yelling only grew her smug look. "You could have told me you were going to waste two of your shots hitting nothing. I thought you killed hundreds of soldiers?"

Freeman gawked at her audacity, ready to begin yet another round of arguments. "**Listen, asshole, I'm not exactly **_**prepared**_ **to fight a gelatinous blue Old Yeller! You can at least **_**thank me **_**for doing your job for you!"**

At this point, IF threw out a laugh. "Freeman, you just killed one Dogoo. We aren't _close_ to being done."

_We aren't __**close…?**_

On cue, attracted by the noise, another cry of "Dogoo!" resonated throughout the air. And another. And another, and another, and another.

_Oh fuck._

Out of the bushes, trees, and open areas of the forest and plains surrounding it came more Dogoos, plenty of them from all directions, leaping towards the party of four. IF turned to look at Compa and Nepgear. "Alright, everyone, are you all ready for the fight?"

"Yes!" replied Compa.

"I'll do my best!" replied Nepgear.

**"No!" **yelled Freeman.

"Then _let's go!_"

With that, IF rushed to take on one side, Nepgear another, Compa on the opposite side of Nepgear, and Freeman on his own side, coincidentally one of the sides that has more Dogoos than Compa or Nepgear's. IF landed the first blow on her first Dogoo, quickly slashing it with a qatar over and over and making it her first kill in a few seconds. Immediately dashing over to the next Dogoo, she turned her head to quickly check on if Nepgear was doing alright - she needed practice most of all. To her relief, she seemed to be handling the situation fine - there weren't that many Dogoos on her side compared to IF's, and the CPU Candidate, although still a bit slow on the reflexes, was holding her own, balancing her offense with defense and executing strategic attacks with her sword that absolutely did damage to the Dogoo horde.

Compa too, although considered as mostly a support user, was doing well against her small number of Dogoos, using her giant syringe (unnoticed by Freeman who was currently hyperventilating a tad bit) to bludgeon and stab the blue slimes. That only left Gordon to check on.

While Freeman considered himself to be an excellent shot, it didn't show here. He fired wildly into the Dogoos, hoping to see them all dead if he just kept shooting at them long enough.

_**Shit, shit, shit! This isn't right! This isn't legal! I demand to see my lawyer! I'll take this to court if I have to! God damn it, just die, just die…**_

As he reloaded his pistol and began to empty his next magazine, Freeman really hoped the pay would be worth it.

_Of all the material these things are made of, why does it have to be __**slime?!**_ _Slime isn't __**fair!**_ _God damn it, I have to reload…! No, I'm switching to a bigger gun, this isn't working!_ Rapidly holstering his pistol and bringing out his MP5, he began to burst fire into the horde, finally beginning to get his own kills.

_**Fuck, I'm already out on this mag! **__Alright, let's do it the bulletless way, fine!_ Pulling out his trusty crowbar, he swung it at the first Dogoo in front of him… and it became stuck inside of the creature.

_**OH GOD, WHY DID I DO THAT?! THESE THINGS ARE SLIMEBALLS, OF COURSE A CROWBAR'S GONNA BECOME STUCK! FINE, BACK TO REGULARLY SCHEDULED PROGRAMMING! **_Wielding the shotgun, he proceeded to send rounds of buckshot at the crowbar-wearing Dogoo, the weakened creature exploding upon impact. Immediately grabbing the crowbar and returning it to his inventory, Gordon seemed to find a bit more effectiveness with the SPAS-12, starting to thin out his section a little quicker as a result.

_**I'm not exactly HAPPY with this situation right now, trench coat! While I KNEW you wanted to kill me, I thought it would be LATER, not NOW!**_

IF yelled to Gordon amid her battle. "Are you getting practice now, Freeman?!"

**"Fuck you!"**

With IF slashing and hacking away, Nepgear in a flow with her sword, Compa diligently administering hits, and Freeman being Freeman, the number of Dogoos reduced and reduced further. Just as the party were all about to land their final hits, however, the remaining Dogoos began to hop away from them as nonchalantly as they hopped to their deaths earlier. In the sudden change in direction, Freeman got the last laugh on his Dogoos, cheering as he exploded the last of them with his shotgun. Taking a glance at the rest of the party, however, he noted a look of concern on their faces.

"What's the matter? We beat them, they're running! Job's done!"

Nepgear answered back. "They don't usually run away like that… they've done it before, but I don't remember why."

The why came back to her as a loud, deep cry around the widely-spaced trees sounded.

"_**DOGOO!"**_

Out of nowhere, another Dogoo appeared - but not a normal one. Gordon set his eyes upon the source of the noise, widening them and shrinking back a bit. This Dogoo wasn't small - it was _ginormous. _With its leaps causing small tremors, the party looked at each other upon the arrival of this new challenge.

_Oh, no no no. No no no no_ _**no no no.**_

_Fade to black._

_**I didn't know they could be ordered SUPERSIZED!**_

* * *

**A/N: While our book for now closes on the giant Dogoo, there is a guarantee that it will open once more! On the giant Dogoo too.**

**In all seriousness, sorry for this chapter posting being really long since the last. Real life got in the way as well as writer's block, and sometimes that's pretty hard to overcome.**

**Before people ask, I'll say that no, I'm not planning any pairings between Gordon and someone else.**

**Thanks for being here all the way! More chapters will come soon.**


	8. Episode 8

**A/N: We're back on track! In the last time our physicist protagonist was seen, he and his new "companions" had encountered a Dogoo with the characteristics of being an _absolute uni_**_**t, **_**and as a result, now must fight it for the sake of obtaining the mighty dollar. Or credit, as it would be put here. How will Freeman handle this (not very) new foe? Shooting it, probably. Anyways, enjoy!**

**LeoLioLieLion: Trench coat girl, but don't tell Freeman that.**

**ReiAnon: Isekai, huh? Pretty accurate. Now imagine that same American theoretical physicist in say… Konosuba. That would be fun. Thanks, man!**

* * *

_Follow the thoughts of Dr. Gordon Freeman, a 27 year old theoretical physicist, neurotic individual, and a unique "hero" to a new strange world. In this episode, Freeman obtains his rewards and plays pundit._

* * *

There are some times Freeman wondered just essentially how he got put into this situation, but completely fell short of an explanation for what he sees, and thus, he believes it is attributable to the universe hating him.

This is one of those times.

He looked over at IF, who seemed to be sizing up the creature, not interested in just running away, as Freeman thought ought to be done.

"**Hey, trench coat, I'm really glad you got the **_**easy**_ **job! I'm really happy to know that you're looking out for all of us by picking a job that would be **_**simple! **_**Thanks** _**a lot.**_"

The green-eyed girl finished her quick analysis of the giant Dogoo before them, turning her head back at Gordon. "This'll be done in no time when Nepgear transforms, Freeman!" At the mention of the word "transform", however, the CPU Candidate shrunk back from her new spotlight casted by the physicist and Guild member. "T-transform?"

_Yeah, I'm sure Miss "I'm-about-to-wet-my-pants" over here is gonna have a __**great**_ _time wanting to fight the hive queen of these bullet-resistant spherical Slimers! And speaking of __**transform,**_ _you __**still**_ _haven't told me what __**that's**_ _all about! I said she could transform into a plant as a __**joke**__, but from all the __**detailed information**_ _you're giving me, I might as well assume that's what she actually __**does!**_ _You're going to have to tell me a __**lot**_ _of things! __**I want**_ _**to know, damn it!**_

IF's smug smile started to fade when Nepgear asked back "transform" more fearfully than she anticipated. "You need to do it as part of your rehab, Gear..." While Gear started to blankly stare, concentrating on battling her inner emotions, Compa pitched in with her opinion. "You're putting her on the spot, Iffy!"

_You want someone to just snap their fingers and solve your problems for you?! Just __**look**_ _at her! What the hell are you __**expecting?!**_

Nepgear, however, apparently seemed to bring some expectations back to IF as she looked back up… albeit not with an expression of confidence. "I'll do it! I'll transform!"

_Oh, here we go! Let's see some action!_

A few seconds passed, and Freeman still didn't see some sort of brilliant light. Nepgear only looked down, emitting a faint "urgh" and not saying much else.

_Right, so either the transformation was an internal change or __**nothing happened.**_ _I have to say, I'm leaning towards the latter theory right now! This isn't exactly inspiring confidence in the __**rest**_ _of us! Just what-_

At that moment, the giant Dogoo decided it would be a great idea to interrupt Gordon and leap right at the party, making all four of them scattering away from the impact zone with a decent amount of screaming - some of which sounded suspiciously masculine.

Re-rallying together, IF took another glance at Nepgear, who only seemed to be heavy-heartedly muttering to herself "I was too scared" and "I'm sorry". Deciding that the best course of action was to move to Plan B, and hope that Plan C - run away - wouldn't need to be enacted, she readied her weapons once more. "Jeez… everyone, we're going to have to do this the classical way!"

Freeman seemed to slightly break away from the Dogoo-battle honor code at that moment.

"**YOUR WAY SUCKS! LET ME SHOW YOU **_**MY**_ **WAY OF DOING THIS!"**

Not even bothering to consider any possible shrapnel that would cause (decidedly unfriendly) friendly-fire, he pulled out a grenade from his inventory, pulled the pin, and vigorously chucked the happy ball directly at the Dogoo.

_Come on, stay __**still**__, __**stay**_ _**still-**_

An explosion rocked the forest, the resulting shrapnel all going into the Dogoo. While Gordon would normally consider this a job well done, further inspection of the scene revealed there was still a small problem.

_**WHY ARE YOU STILL THERE?! I THOUGHT I THREW THE PROBLEM-SOLVER AT YOU! THERE'S STILL PROBLEMS! I WANT MY MONEY BACK!**_

Like tiny ball, like giant ball, the Dogoo only blinked again in response - with the shrapnel inside mysteriously gone.

IF took this as a sign that maybe the attack should begin now, and thus dashed towards the enormous creature, weapons in hand, landing her hits. Compa followed, providing support with her syringe - her giant syringe, Freeman just noticed.

_**What is she holding?! **__Jesus Christ, does she give the flu shot to __**battleships?!**_ _Imagine if she just walked in with __**that**_ _to some elementary school kid! __**That'll**_ _give him a phobia. That would give __**me**_ _a phobia! I don't __**want**_ _more phobias, I have enough to worry about as it is!_

Moving back in order to get some range, she aimed her syringe needle at the Dogoo, firing off a shot which hit its target - which Gordon also noticed.

_**Apparently we shoot the battleship too! **__Y'know what, knowing this place, she probably uses that for some weird ritual I don't know about. Yeah, I can just see her in some hooded robe in some secret society or something with a bunch of other people, and they're just all gathering around the big needle, saying their prayers to the syringe gods, then end off the ceremony with someone being ritually sacrificed._

Nepgear put on a face, yet perhaps not a solid one, and gripped her sword ever-tighter. She had to be strong! She had to! With a battle cry, sword in hand, she took off towards the party's target, beginning her first attack strafe upon it.

_Oh, sweet, they're doing all the work! Wait… damn it, I have to fight too. If I __**don't**__, they'll definitely reduce my share of the gold, and I don't think they'll __**hesitate in the slightest. **__Alright, fine, _\- Gordon pulled out his submachine gun once more - _let's just get this over with._

For a period of time, a disorganized party became a well-oiled battle machine - Freeman in the back, providing constant fire, Compa near him, applying her battle support to her two teammates in front, and said two teammates fighting in unison - Nepgear with the occasional well-timed strike, and IF to continue the relentless melee offensive in between. As the minutes of combat ticked on, the Dogoo seemed to jump ever-less, blink more, wobble just a little bit. But soon, the task at hand was almost complete - everyone could tell, especially the physicist.

_**Come on, come on!**_

The Dogoo stopped, its terminality becoming more apparent by the second.

_**I'm wasting all my ammo on you, come on!**_

It wobbled a slight bit, emitting a low "Dogoo."

_Yes, __**good boy! That's a good boy!**_

The giant completed its final blink, and the explosion covered the trees around it with its slime.

_**YES! ANOTHER POINT FOR THE MILITARY-INDUSTRIAL COMPLEX!**_

All four of the combatants looked around and at themselves, checking they were clean from any Dogoo remains (they miraculously were). Once the adrenaline settled down, IF could only emit a small sigh. "I think our quest is complete now that we killed it. Good work, everyone."

Not willing to simply assume, Gordon brought up an internal opinion to the outside world. "Yeah, hopefully I'll get a bunch of _**money**_ for that." The result of his statement became clear as IF rolled her eyes. "Freeman, we're all getting an equal share of the reward, don't worry." The physicist, however, didn't want to let bygones be bygones. "Oh, an equal _**share. **_That doesn't exactly _tell me_ how much I **got**. Not to mention that I was the best one here! You all would have been _**screwed**_ if I wasn't providing cover fire - I know your weeping friend wouldn't last!"

Nepgear widened her eyes, not believing that Freeman was literally accusing _her_ of doing nothing. She opened her mouth to speak, but yet could not - something was coming back to her head. _Failure._

IF, however, summarized the rest of the party's feelings.

"_**What the hell is your problem?! **_We can _**perfectly**_ handle ourselves, and we _**did!**_ Nothing here depended on you! No battle in this forest _**ever **_depended on you! You think a giant Dogoo is the biggest worry for us?! I've fought way tougher things than you can even imagine! _**All**_ _**of us**_ have! Just because you showed up here one day and found a Sharicite, it doesn't make you king of Gamindustri! Showing me you're scared of Dogoos already told me you're not _**all that**_, buster!"

_Buster…?_

The tirade continued. "I'll be honest here, Freeman, you're not giving much _**value**_ to me. In exchange for someone who _**might**_ help defeat ASIC, I get an egotistical alcoholic _**jerk**_ that insults people who've been close to me for _**years**_ while at the same time blaming everyone else for his own problems! You want to be the _**hero **_of this place while you brag about having killed most-likely _**innocent**_ security guys?! How do you even _**think **_you're anywhere close to someone like that?!"

Gordon retained his mature selective mutism up to this point, but now he had to make a stand.

"Those guys were about as _**innocent**_ as a serial killer holding a _**knife!**_ Did you know these 'innocents' were ordered to _**literally shoot anyone that wasn't them?! And yet those dumbasses still screwed THAT up?! **_Your points suck! I-"

IF cut him off, her final straw finally reached. "_**And what?! **__They had __**lives! **__They had __**family!**_ _They did what they were __**ordered**_ _to do, and they probably hated it! Just because you're so focused on doing what you think is __**right**_ _doesn't mean that anybody else won't be affected! There's an entire __**world**__, you know! At least look __**beyond**_ _**your own brain!**_" Her volume raised a long time ago, now reaching a crescendo, she screamed; she hadn't screamed like this before she met Freeman, before she met what she thought was such a reprehensible being - it was a wonder he wasn't already banished, and probably would have been, if not for his specialty. "_**I **__think you're overestimating yourself! Do you think that you can __**really**_ _fight?! I haven't seen proof yet! I want to see you __**try**_ _to storm an ASIC base when you can't even handle a simple Dogoo!_ _At least then you can learn that there are __**some things**_ _that you still have to learn! Nothing I've gathered about you screams 'savior'! All I hear is _'_**abuser'!"**_

IF finally fell silent for a few seconds, clutching her forehead, shaking every last bit of remaining frustration out of her head. Gordon, however, wasn't very humbled.

_Jesus, and I thought that redhead was bad. Alright, I guess since everyone's pissed off again, I get to be back in the 'look at this freak' spotlight. Oh boy, how joyous. Whatever. I want my __**money, **__so as long as you're gonna give me __**that**__, I'm not going to even bother with the rest._

Dead quiet ruled the forest now. With Compa's face unreadable, Nepgear's in some anguish, IF not even staring down Freeman - he wasn't worth even that - and said armored man somehow looking _bored_ despite the situation, it was quite clear that bonds between them weren't going to be developed for a while.

After a little bit, the brunette finally managed to produce words from her mouth again, most certainly growling out a "let's go" to everyone. The rest of the party said nothing else, only following her back to the Guild.

_She acts like I even __**want**_ _to be here. Sure, I prefer this place rather than the alien-infested __**death trap **__I came from, but I'd be in… oh, I don't know, __**Massachusetts? Earth? **__Somewhere I __**know?**_ _What does __**this**_ _place offer? __**Armed guerrillas? Bad-future theocracies? **__That's __**just**_ _what I need right now after a __**marathon**_ _of trying to __**survive. **__Apparently I haven't been through __**enough!**_

* * *

The walk did not help soothe the tension in the air, and everyone knew it. Eventually, the spires of the Guild and the bustle of the Adventurer's Plaza reappeared to the party, and soon, the metal interior of the main building was entered. Silently walking to the clerk, each party member got a bag with their share - Freeman especially glad.

_**Finally! **__I don't need these people. All I need is __**this.**_ He held the bag up to his eyes, carefully inspecting the exterior before opening it and turning it to his face.

_Oh yeah, that's some amount. It's not __**enough**__, but I can't seem to ever win in this world, so whatever. _

IF, Compa, and Nepgear all walked together to look at their credits at the other end of the room - as far away from the theoretical physicist as possible.

_I guess their __**posse**_ _doesn't want me representing them anymore. That's alright. You know, now that I have this account with the Guild or something, I'm pretty sure I have a valid form of ID. __**And**_ _I have money! Okay, that means I'm going to do a bar run __**right**_ _this time. No more being __**crippled! **__I need to find a plan, though. I sure as hell don't want to be on the other end of yet another shrill yell. I'd need to find another hotel, I'm sure the staff of my current room wouldn't mind. Brand loyalty is for chumps anyways. _

Another few minutes passed before everyone seemed ready to head back to the Basilicom - albeit not in the same mood as when they left it. After waiting for Gordon to stop staring into space again, the four of them left the Guild, walking towards the Planeptunian HQ as fast as they could.

Their arrival, thankfully, sparked no notice among anyone in the Basilicom, and the party quickly entered the hexagonal elevator and rose to the administrative floor. With a final, disgusted nod from IF to Freeman, the party split, leaving the physicist alone.

_So, right, they left. Good. Honestly, I'm going to just relax in my room for a bit - crash the bed and watch TV… then I'll go get wasted again. Maybe I can find a bar that isn't __**weak.**_ _I dunno. There could be tougher ones - the one I went to seemed more like a __**pub**_ _than anything. It __**could**_ _be just one case! Maybe I was just unlucky… no, probably not. There's probably not __**one**_ _place in this city that had a real bar fight. Speaking of real bar fights, everyone imagines them as this sort of_ _**world**_ _**war**__, with chairs thrown around and pool cues used as __**batons. **__I don't know how they expect that. Everyone's __**drunk!**_ _They'd be lucky to be able to __**stand**__, let alone __**punch each other! **__Honestly, it probably would really look like a bad zombie movie - everyone just stumbles around grabbing each other until they all fall down. Roll credits._

Reaching his room and satisfied to see that housekeeping could in fact clean a room while he was gone, he sat down on his bed and once again returned to the land of high definition, not taking his eyes off the screen.

_Yeah, I think I can live like this. Of course, that assumes I'm going to __**live. **__I'm not sure anyone here actually __**has**_ _a contingency plan in case I actually die. I mean, I __**won't **__\- this bulletproof suit should take care of that. But seeing how these great tacticians think, I don't think they ever considered a Plan __**B. **_"_Uh oh, our fall guy died! Better surrender to the guerrillas now!"_

Through his channel surfing, he came across a Planeptunian news channel reporting things. ASIC activities… something about the CPU Candidate… the economy? He didn't really care.

_Next._

The television obeyed his command, and brought it to… yet another news channel pretty much saying the same thing. Possibly eighty percent of students worshiping some goddess that ASIC loved…

_...wait, __**eighty percent?! **__Oh man, this place really __**is**_ _boned. If your __**youth**_ _gets indoctrinated - well, that's it. They're not going to change for a __**while**__. Unless something bad happens. But really, this doesn't seem like the type of world where 'something __**bad**_' _happens unless they call their rope fanatics going off to play with robots something bad. Knowing the people here though, this might as well be like North Korea where when their leader dies, everyone just __**cries right on the streets. **__It's kind of scary over there how much the people are __**brainwashed **__like that! But as terrible as this sounds, __**that's **__what I'd call a good theocracy! Not this fancy-pansy "democracy" crap. Whatever the leader says, it gets __**done.**_

With the news station done on that, they moved onto their next topic: the growing divide between ASIC supporters and non-ASIC supporters… and the economy… oh God this was getting real old real fast.

_Alright, I know that back on Earth the news stations all generally covered the same topics, but this is ridiculous__**. **__Could they __**not**_ _find __**anything else**_ _to talk about? Is the economy or whatever really __**that**_ _important? I didn't think they would even have to __**worry**_ _about the economy in the future, but nope, guess we're still playing 'pin the date on the recession'! Let's look at whatever this random stockbroker has to say. I'm sure __**he's **__got it all right. Is this what more TV channels get you? The same crap over and over again? They'd better not jack up my cable price, otherwise they'll have a __**real**_ _problem._

Surfing through the vast amount of different channels, he finally set down his remote on a movie starting - _Leanboxian Prowl - _and watched the self described "action-packed green thriller" begin.

"_Leanbox", huh? I guess the trend of putting two random bits of English together and calling it a name isn't a local one. Wouldn't want to be __**creative**_ _or anything._

The movie continued - basically, something called the 'RRoD' - which Gordon had no idea regarding what it was - was assigned to take down a detachment of Planeptunian spies that had infiltrated the nation's government.

_I don't know why, but I have a gut feeling this is an __**older**_ _movie._

A Planeptunian gunman in the movie proceeded to open fire on Leanbox's Basilicom, the scene ending with an RRoD agent present promising in his head to "burn the purple land to the ground".

_No idea why, though._

With the mindless action continuing for the next hour, Freeman entered his half-catatonic TV state, and didn't want to get out. This time, however, he wasn't interrupted. By the time he managed to return to full consciousness, the credits were rolling, and the stars had shown up outside his window.

_Damn, night already. Well, I __**would**_ _like to try and hit the town again, but… this bed's pretty comfy, and… screw it, I'll pass out._

_Fade to black._

_They can wait for me anyways._

* * *

**Wow, this one took a little longer than I thought! Alright, yeah, this was another wild ride of emotion, and a short chapter too, but sometimes this stuff kinda happens. Turns out being a dick isn't exactly always consequence-free.**

**Tune in next time, where Freeman finally prepares to run in and shoot things! Again.**


	9. Episode 9

**A/N: Episode 9! It's cool to see everyone talking about this, sharing theories and offering advice. This kinda small community is a beautiful thing to see, really, and I feel it means I'm doing well. Speaking of the community!**

**LeoLioLieLion: I'm sure someone's going to count the score… and other people might count it differently.**

**Meanjojo: I'm not the most degenerate weeb on the planet (yet), so I may be somewhat unfamiliar with Tsunderes. The definition as I saw it was kinda more general - just anyone who wanted to hide feelings/emotions under the guise of a tough guy (or girl, more commonly), but I didn't necessarily think it would go a bit into the realm of egotistical on its own. That's for other parts of the character to add. And yeah, it is fun to think about - I mean, I wasn't even fully aware of Noire's personality as such - I never played Neptunia (and here I am writing a fanfic with it) but I am enjoying exploring it.**

**Delegate of Hermit's United: Thanks, man! Yeah, a few grammar mistakes might slip through even when I proofread - that happens sometimes, haha. Regarding the other Minds, I kinda want to shy away from the idea for two main reasons. The first reason is that I never really watched any other Mind as much as the OG, so it might be a bit tougher to grasp the character (see any Neptunia character I write) and I would need to spend some time studying it, and also that it might detract from the idea and main character (Neptune won't be happy about what I just said) of the fanfic in the first place.**

**Regarding G-Man, yeah, I didn't take into account about Historie's 'power'. Again, of course I'm most likely uninformed about this, but from how I see it - if Historie did not know about Gordon's dimension/universe/whatever - and Gordon within it - I would not think she would know about G-Man - at least, anything that much. Two might be able to play at the interdimensional power game in terms of concealment. As for enemies: we'll see, but I **_**am**_ **aware that a Combine invasion is essentially an instant game over. Did they have walking tubes? I didn't know about that; I might put it in! Thanks for the suggestion! I'll try to make sure this story lives up to the potential it has.**

**Wow, what a long note! Let's get straight to the story then.**

* * *

_Follow the thoughts of Dr. Gordon Freeman, a 27 year old theoretical physicist, neurotic individual, and a unique "hero" to a new strange world. In this episode, Freeman returns to the workforce and meets magic mages._

* * *

Gordon awoke to the mid-morning rays of light shining into his face.

_Wha… ah, damn it, I forgot to close the blinds last night. I guess the power of TV won again. Yeah, let there be __**light...**_

He instinctively glanced around him, making sure that he was still in his Basilicom bed.

_I could live like this. Better than the dorms at __**Black Mesa.**_ _God, I've been to __**hostels**_ _that were less cramped! I guess having room to __**breathe**_ _is less important than making sure everyone_ _stays in the facility! Can't have people __**driving to and from home! **__How could you simulate the __**joyful**_ _experience of being in a sardine can __**then?**_

Preparing himself once again for another day of who-knows-what anymore, the orange-suited physicist thought about exactly what he might do today.

_So, the situation. Trench girl and friends don't exactly want to talk to me, it's too early for a bar run, and I think I've had enough TV for now. This sucks. I guess I'll… walk around? Yeah, sure, why not. Maybe I can get some more money at that Guild place. That bag of gold can only last so long._

Exiting his room, Freeman looked around the hallway and moved towards the location of the elevator, his stature dwarfing the hustle and bustle of the staff walking intermittently through the Basilicom. Soon reaching the hexagonal device, he pressed a button he assumed would send up the guardrails and send the elevator down - and he was correct on that guess.

_Sweet. Yeah, I think I'll just get some more money. And __**ammo. **__Do they even __**know**_ _what nine-millimeter is? Man, I hope they do, otherwise, I'm __**fucked. **__I can't raid a rebel base with just a __**bow, **__guys. Robin Hood with his sling doesn't do so well when he's being fired at by automatic metal bows that shoot nine hundred arrows a __**second. **_

The trip down the elevator was uneventful this time, with the descent only taking a short time - it seemed longer when he was drunk. After the retraction of the guard-rails, Gordon headed out of the elevator room, into the lobby, and began his impromptu trip to the Plaza, hoping he wouldn't get lost. As the blue Planeptunian sky greeted him, Freeman took the time to reflect once more upon the land before him.

_This world blows._

In his own fashion, of course.

_Okay, I mean, when I __**say**_ _that, the assumption would be that I hate this place. But I don't really __**hate**_ _it, it's just __**not as good**_ _as Earth was. Sure, this place is __**civilized**_ _\- at least, on the __**surface**__, but what am I supposed to __**do**_ _here? What do I __**have?**_ _I don't have the __**happy stuff**__, or a lot of money to __**get**_ _it! I don't mind my home being under siege, but God help me if I want to __**enjoy myself**_ _while that happens._

He took a minute to check his surroundings again, trying to trace back the original steps he did with the party to the Guild.

_I feel like I'm in a __**maze**_ _here. What was that strategy? If you keep heading __**right**__, you'll eventually get out? I think they're underestimating the _"_**eventually"**_ _part! I don't have __**time**_ _to go through __**every single **__nook and cranny of this city just so that I can find a specific __**restaurant**_ _or whatever! People always act like I can handle this crap. I'd like to see them _"_**go right"**_ _if they knew that one wrong move would make them Swiss cheese. __**Then **__we'd see who's __**right.**_

Ignoring (probably for his own benefit) the latest pun he made, Gordon somehow managed to not get lost again and eventually found himself staring once more at a rather-active Adventurer's Plaza, the twin spires of the Guild dominating his attention.

_Yeah, this is it, alright. Long live the Tesla coils, yadda yadda yadda. So, okay, what's here…_

He looked around, glancing over the various shops, hang-out places, ranges, and other adventurer-related establishments surrounding the Guild building.

_There's that archery range… some pub - wait, I need to remember that… ah, here we go. "The Weaponry Dealer." Sounds like what I'd need, considering I'm probably a weapon __**emporium**_ _at this point. Well, I'm not interested in selling my collection. Let's go._

The place certainly seemed to live up to its name. With the walls adorned with strange weapons of all kinds, Freeman could only take a guess at what all of them were used for. Walking over to the counter, he was greeted by the shopkeeper, a brown-haired blue-eyed woman seeming to approach her late twenties. Somehow, Gordon could tell that this was someone who knew what she was selling. Drumming her fingers on the counter, she moved her eyes up to look at the new buyer. "Nice afternoon and all, blah blah blah blah, whatever. What you need?" The physicist straightened up, trying not to stare at the armament surrounding them for too long. "Yeah, hi. I'm running low on the magical lead cones that make all my issues go away, so I think I need some new ones."

The woman smirked. "Issues, huh? I think I can help with your supply problem. Show me what you got." Gordon summoned his MP5 and placed it down on the table along with a magazine, causing the woman to raise an eyebrow. "Now that's interesting. You building weapons yourself?" She took the magazine and unloaded a Parabellum round from it, twisting and turning it in her hand under her inspecting eye. "Well, your cartridge isn't standard issue around here."

_Wow, what a surprise._

She blinked as she twirled the bullet around, checking the aspects of it. "Now, that's not to say that it's not _possible_ to make more of these. Nah, these can be made from the .35s really easily. Luckily for you, easily enough to make it cheap."

_That's still not a good bargain. You can't sway someone who's used to being donated bullets for free._

Knowing that trying to negotiate from "cheap" to "nothing" would be a fruitless endeavor, Freeman only internally sighed. "Yeah, alright. When you mean _cheap_, you mean something I'm able to pay for with a bag. Right?" The woman only snorted at the question. "What do you think this is, Leanbox? We might not be Lastation, but even custom bullets for your guns aren't _that_ expensive. Relax a bit."

_Oh boy, another name to keep track of. English mumbo-jumbo three, actual language __**dead. **__Whatever. As long as the bullets keep coming, I'm not stopping to think about it more._

Gordon indeed did not think about it more as he negotiated his price and quantity, finding himself only having to give up half of his gold for a few hundred rounds of ammo. Too much, still, but he'll earn it back. The woman only sported a sly grin as the coins were counted. "Oh yeah, we'll get you the bullets. You just need to wait a bit for us to make 'em." Noticing some slight irritation growing on the physicists face, she offered what seemed to be an obvious explanation. "We can't conjure up these things, you know. It'll take us a few days."

_Oh, I know, let's __**race!**_ _If your bullets can be made faster than I need to __**fire them, then**_ _you can say I can wait. I shouldn't have to take down __**armies**_ _relying on __**cottage industry! **__Haven't you heard of an __**assembly line? **__Your shiny buildings are a __**miracle**_ _if __**this**_ _is the level of production I can get around here._

Yet despite the complaints, the deal was made, and Freeman walked back into the outside hub of the Adventurer's Plaza, now bustling at a methodical pace. Making up his mind to look for any more highlights of the place, he decided to sit down on a nearby bench.

_What's that say? "Magical Apothecary"? Ahh, it's just a brand. "Here, try our vitamin! It's __**magical!**_" _Y'know, you'd think a __**magical**_ _pill to cure cancer or whatever would be a __**major achievement**_ _of humanity. That stuff would change __**everything **__as we know it, because if we beat cancer, that means we're able to live a __**lot**_ _longer. There wouldn't be a media source __**not**_ _talking about it! But no. Only daytime TV has the cure. They-_

His newest tangent was interrupted by a tap on his suits shoulder. Looking at his interrupter, his eyes registered the sight of a woman decorated with flowing blue hair, blue eyes, an elegant black dress covered with a white coat - topped with a dark-colored witch hat. Gordon crassly began the conservation.

"Alright, Salem fugitive, what do you want? I was _busy_ here." The woman let out a tiny chuckle, poking at the suit again, much to Gordon's dismay. "Your metal shell is simply very interesting to me, stranger. A new thing to study always vests in me a curiosity that I cannot quench until the answer is found." Freeman sported a slight look of concern as she said that.

"Look, you can take a look at metal all you want, but this is **my **metal. Go get your own."

As she chuckled again, louder this time, the witch inspected the rest of the suit, and the man inhabiting it. "You're one of the funnier people I've met. And yet you seem… quite unfamiliar to around here. Perchance I may know your name?" Gordon sighed and resigned himself to deal with yet another encounter with crazy. "**Doctor **Freeman. A **doctor. **Of **science.** Have I mentioned that you should address me as '**doctor'** yet? I think I should say that." At the mention of 'science', however, her eyes perked up. "Oh! A man of _science? _The Mad Magician _does_ need an assistant for her experiments. Perhaps you may be qualified?"

_**"****Did you not hear me when I said I was a DOCTOR?! I've published a THESIS, what did you do?! Twirl around a lab beaker?! You don't DESERVE me as an assistant. I'd like to see you TRY to do what I do."**_

Despite Gordon's mini-tantrum and the stares surrounding the two, the scientist-witch remained unaffected. "I can only _imagine_ the possibilities we will explore together, assistant Freeman. I should introduce myself, of course: I'm MAGES., the Mad Magician. With my science magic and your skills, we'll make an excellent team."

Ignoring the sudden onset of déjà vu in his head, Freeman decided to reply with his own interpretation of the events. "Okay, so I _think_ the problem here is you put science and _magic_ together? I'm not sure those two things _combine_ very well. For your name being 'Mages' and all that-"

"You spelled it wrong."

…

"...what?"

MAGES. stared him dead in the eyes, making sure he heard every last word she said. "You didn't capitalize it, and you forgot the period." The incredulity on Gordon's face was a sight to see indeed. "I… I don't have _any_ words for what you just said. You said your name was MAGES, and-"

"Better, but you forgot the period again."

_Wha… I don't even know anymore. I just don't. I have to wonder how far this will go before it turns out I'm just in some game show or whatever where the goal is to see who's the last one to __**go insane**__._

"For God's sake, how many times do I have to call you by one fucking name to get it right?! All I'm saying is just 'MAGES.' over and over again! _**What am I doing wrong?!**_"

The three-toned sorcerer flashed another one of her grins. "Nothing that time. You seem to be getting the hang of it rather _quickly_, assistant!"

_Hey, game show host, I'm sorry to bother you, but I think I'm about to __**lose it.**_

Turning her head to look at the Guild building, MAGES. seemed to revel in the sight of having a new assistant, while Freeman was hoping he could just wake up soon. The Mad Magician, still keeping her eyes on the twin spires, asked a question. "So what is another person like myself doing in this place? I was simply here for checking a few staves, but I certainly don't see you with one."

_Well, first of all, I don't see __**you**_ _with one either, but second of all, my staves are small, and cast __**bullets.**_ _That's the only magic __**I**_ _need. What, is there __**magic**_ _here? How does __**that**_ _work? No, wait, I forgot we're in a theocracy. Of course science is magic. Can't question it._

Still remembering the concept that leaving other people in silence during a conversation, however insane, isn't going to reflect well, Gordon answered her back. "My _plan_ was to take one of these stupid quests and get back all that _gold_ I just gave away so that I can _survive _for however long I'm here_._"

_I think I might be considering an __**alternative**_ _solution, though, which is to get away from you and never come back. _

MAGES. pondered over the situation at hand, and after a few seconds, spoke again. "I believe that it is in my best interest, as a responsible magician, to watch over my apprentice then! The Pixelvaders do need cleaning up, last I heard…"

_Oh no._

The magician turned her head towards Freeman once more, expecting an answer.

_**Damn it.**_ _Alright, I know for a __**fact**_ _she's going to stalk me all the way back to my hotel room if I don't say "yes", so I'll do this one dumb quest with her and that should throw her off._

Groaning perhaps not-so-quietly, Freeman only managed to nod his head and make a 'come with me' hand gesture, glad he restrained himself enough so that it wasn't another type of gesture. Despite his directions, however, MAGES. stood up - imitating Gordon's own hand motion. "Don't think I'm not unfamiliar with this place, assistant. I know _exactly_ which quest we shall embark on."

_Look, paper volcano maker, my job is to __**not die**__. Whatever you think __**that**_ _means to you, the way __**I **__see it is that I would still like to have a __**pulse**_ _and __**free will. **__Even the "I really want to be stuck in ropes" goddesses or whatever they are had both of __**those.**_

Not hearing the internal misgivings of the PhD-physicist, MAGES. only gracefully moved forward, towards those ever-more familiar twin spires and the building below them, Freeman following.

The blank and dull interior of the main building once again appeared to Gordon, reminded again of those times before and during the period of fighting aliens, and the duo went naturally to the quest board like flies, MAGES. looking for the job she referred to, and Freeman looking for a quest on the board where he could be able to let MAGES. do all the work for him. Unfortunately for the doctor, the Mad Magician found her quest first.

"Ah-ha! Assistant, our job is here. Yes… the Darkness 60 dungeon… a few dozen enemies to kill, about. No problem!"

_Can't bother to say an actual __**number**__, huh? Wait, a few __**dozen?!**_ _Girl, I don't puke __**ammo!**_ _Do you think I'm __**Magneto?! **__Do you think I can __**MacGyver **__bullets out of my ass?! __**No!**_ _If I was __**either**_ _of those, that giant robot would be dead and I don't have to worry about some face-painted __**jungle freak**_ _slitting my throat while I sleep! You people aren't very good at something called __**risk assessment**__, that's for sure!_

By the time Gordon focused back into reality, MAGES. had already went to the desk to redeem their job, and twirled around to face him again. "Come now, assistant, there's much the Mage has to teach you in the art of science magic."

_And there's a lot I have to teach you about minding your own damn business._

* * *

The journey to the 'Darkness 60' dungeon, as MAGES. called it, seemed to take longer than last time, but soon enough, Gordon saw something that could be containing dangerous monsters - a sort of factory complex, rusted, abandoned to nature. Certainly somewhere where aliens could pop out of a box and kill him.

_Oh, so __**that's**_ _where all that industry went. Yeah, good job __**maintaining it**__, guys. Wouldn't want to use it __**again**_ _in the future._

Near the entrance to a decrepit warehouse, the Mad Magician stopped in her tracks, turning herself to face Freeman. "Shall we go into battle, my assistant?"

"Yeah, yeah. You better give me a _lot_ of gold for this."

MAGES. only tilted her head, wondering where that idea came from. "Silly assistant, no need to worry! We'll have enough reward for us both to use for whatever we may need them for. I do need new staves and graduated cylinders, after all…"

_Wow, so you __**do**_ _know more lab equipment than a beaker! Color me slightly more impressed. Maybe you're __**not**_ _a poser scientist after all! Just a basic chemist. I can live with that. I'm still a __**doctor**_ _though, so me being your "assistant" is still __**insulting**_ _to the very __**idea**_ _of science - and me. But mostly me._

Freeman pulled out his SPAS-12, holding it at the door ready to turn anything coming through it into Swiss cheese while MAGES. looked on. "Very interesting weapon, assistant! I do believe I can show you how science magic does it, however." On that note, she produced her first display of 'science magic', holding out her hand - in a puff of smoke, a wooden staff appeared, grasped by the sorceress firmly and precisely. The one-man audience of the trick didn't seem to be too impressed, however.

_Huh, that's cool. Probably a quick hand movement, I guess._

Nodding to each other, Freeman decided to do the _army way_ \- breach! Raising his foot, he aimed at the door - kick!

_**Fuck, fuck, shit!**_

What had been an attempted 'cool entry' had essentially resulted in one foot stuck in a hole in a door, and one mouth emitting swears at a rather high and impolite frequency. Both of these body parts, of course, belonged to the one who wasn't laughing hysterically at her assistant. Of course, having two girls laughing hysterically at him in recent memory did not translate well to his mood of joking around. "_**Yeah, you think this is fucking funny?! What if someone KILLED ME while I was kicking in this door?! Then you would be on your own and I would be DEAD! I DON'T WANT TO BE DEAD! BEING DEAD IS NOT AN OPTION!"**_

Seeing that Gordon was not dead, MAGES. only cooled down her laughter to some chuckles and managed to keep a straight face enough to walk over to the door, Freeman's leg now out of the hole that was created, and attempt to open it. Surprisingly, the door did not open - in the conventional sense, instead deciding to be off its hinges and as a result, follow the whims of gravity. Nevertheless, the entrance was open. "Proof demonstrated, assistant! Doors do not have to be torn down in order to open them. You still have a lot to learn from me, assistant."

_Why, you little…_

Following that incident, both scientists entered the warehouse, only greeted by the sight of a storage facility overrun by green and the sound of quietness echoing through the space around them.

_Yeah, I'm sure __**this**_ _peace is gonna last. Any moment now they're all gonna show up._

The sound of… something familiar to Gordon, though he couldn't place where he heard it, reached his ears. Looking over to MAGES., he could see that she was looking around too, looking for the source. The physicist was quicker to spot the source - something not friendly… it was…

_**I'm sorry, are we playing 3D Space Invaders now?! What the fuck is THIS?! **__Okay, Gordon, don't worry. Don't worry, it's just gonna fire, you can-_

Instincts took over his thoughts as he sidestepped a predicted laser that however seemed to be… _quicker _than he anticipated.

_**I DON'T REMEMBER THE LASER BEING THAT FAST! THIS IS BULLSHIT SPACE INVADERS, I DON'T WANNA PLAY THIS! I DON'T HAVE NEARLY ENOUGH QUARTERS!**_

While Gordon aimed and fired at the come-to-life pixel blob, the SPAS-12 rounds buried into it didn't kill the pixel blob, albeit Freeman could detect it certainly wasn't able to shrug that off. MAGES. grinned at the spectacle, however. It was her turn.

"Observe and record, assistant. _Let the radiance consume you!_" Concluding her incantation, a bright glow from her staff illuminated the air around it, causing Freeman to cover his eyes from the sheer luminescence. With a thrust of her hand, the light coalesced, unioned into a ball moving towards its target - a hit it couldn't bear, dissolving into a shower of pixels. Closing her eyes and clanking her staff on the floor, she didn't notice the sight of Gordon being completely in disbelief over what he just saw.

_Now… now I've seen __**everything.**_

_Fade to black._

_I'm really starting to think the __**world's**_ _in the wrong here._

* * *

**And wow, we're done. Yes, it seems MAGES. couldn't leave Freeman well enough alone. How unfortunate for him.**

**It's been… about a month since the last chapter. I know, I know. I'm really sorry you all had to wait so long for this. Like I said, things like demotivation, writer's block, and real life taking a lot of time just added up. But I think I'm getting things back on track, so the next update certainly shouldn't take that long. I hope you'll look forward to the future to me!**


	10. Episode 10

**A/N: And here we are, Episode 10, after some troubles going forward, it's here. See, I told you it's not dead! As of this chapter's publication.**

**Last time on our "great" adventure, Freeman saw the first hand might of Neptunian magic. God help him. At least, God help him with MAGES.**

**Super heavy weapons guy: Thanks!**

**Guy: Also thanks! Freeman's jerkish here because this Freeman is based off a machinima called **_**Freeman's Mind**_ **by Ross Scott, where Freeman is well… jerkish. It's pretty good, take a look! As for the Gravity Gun, Freeman's transported to Neptunia during HL1. Can't take something that doesn't exist.**

**Valikdu: **_**There's no underground cult with a giant robot coming to abduct you, Gordon, you're just being paranoid!**_

**Yeah, I think that's it! Enjoy the chapter!**

* * *

_Follow the thoughts of Dr. Gordon Freeman, a 27 year old theoretical physicist, neurotic individual, and a unique "hero" to a new strange world. In this episode, Freeman goes back to the past and conjures up survival tactics._

* * *

Freeman still couldn't exactly comprehend what he just saw.

_So… I guess I can throw __**ten fucking years of research **__out the window now._

At least, not nicely.

_That's fine. Diplomas are just pieces of paper anyways. __**Totally **__doesn't mean anything else._

MAGES. for once seemed to look concerned at her assistant seemingly staring at a wall blankly with a distressed look on his face. "Assistant, come now. There are more Pixelvaders here…"

_Laws of science? Established theories? __**Nope.**_ _Just magic. __**Magic.**_ _How fucking __**insane**_ _is this place?! I can't even rely on stuff I thought was __**common fucking knowledge?!**_

"Assistant?"

_Okay, Gordon, just calm down… just calm down, these facts don't hurt you, you're a __**reasonable **__guy, __**reasonable-**_

"_**Assistant!"**_

Gordon managed to break out of his thoughts just in time for him to narrowly dodge another laser, feeling the heat on his cheek as it whizzed by.

_**REASONABLE, REASONABLE, TOTALLY REASONABLE, TOTALLY FINE!**_

The Mad Magician looked on as Gordon proceeded to blast the offending Pixelvader into bits, continuing to fire wildly at the spot even after the entity disintegrated.

_**I LIED, THIS ISN'T REASONABLE! NOTHING'S FINE! MAGIC ISN'T FINE!**_

After fully emptying his rounds into what was previously the side of a conveyor belt, Freeman took a moment to calm down. At least, until he saw MAGES..

"_You!_ _You're not __**real!**_ _None of this is __**real!**_ _I'm going to wake up to an alien next to me that's gonna tear my __**lungs**_ _out! Now __**that's**_ _real!_"

MAGES. scoffed at the physicist. "Assistant, did you not say you were a man of _science? _This is _science_ in action! Science magic is indeed the specialty of The Mage, after all. _Embrace_ it!"

The PhD-endowed man fired back - only verbally, thankfully. "I don't think you _realize_ the _**oxymoron**_ you're saying here! _I don't know what you did, but it sure as hell isn't science!_" The witch smirked, showing no reaction to Gordon on the verge of a complete breakdown. "Of course they claim that."

"_**Who the hell is 'they'?!" **_

Before MAGES. could answer him on the use of the pronoun, more lasers flashed above their heads, signalling the time for arguing is over for now. With one readying for battle and the other… _maybe_ showing that he recognizes there's enemies shooting at him, it would only be a few moments before the fight began.

And began it did - MAGES. firing the first shot of flame towards another Pixelvader, while Gordon turned around to cover her backside - inadvertently - and spotted new enemies.

_**The fucking PAC-MAN ghosts?! WHAT KIND OF DEMONIC ARCADE FACTORY IS THIS? AM I GOING TO FIGHT SOME SPACESHIPS NEXT?! MAYBE LIVING TETRIS BLOCKS?! I DON'T KNOW, THROW MORE STUFF AT ME! LET'S PLAY THE 'GAME OVER' LOTTERY! **_

Despite the new appearance of yet another probably-copyrighted enemy, Freeman did not hesitate to open fire, the apparition shrinking back from tried and tested Parabellum impacting its… body? Meanwhile, MAGES. herself engaged a few ghosts that had sprung up in front of her, dodging blasts of their own magic and countering in a light show that would most definitely attract an audience of fans. "Assistant, I do believe you're hanging in there, right?"

Gordon continued to fire at the Pixelvaders and ghosts, light magic substituted for a pure rain of steel upon the opponents. "You know what?! _**No, **_I'm _**not**_ hanging in there! _**Currently,**_ I'm fighting for my _**life! **_You ever think of cutting the **theatrics? Maybe send some **_**help?**_"

The Mad Magician let out a small groan and turned her head to see panicked Gordon firing shots at not only ghosts and Pixelvaders, but simply anything that seemed to beg for bullets. "Surely, in a back to back fight, one is supposed to handle themselves, no?" A light powering up quickly resharpened the sorceress's focus, the Mad Magician quickly raising her staff and letting out a beam of wind - returning the blast to sender.

_I thought in a __**back-to-back**_ _battle, we have each other's __**back? **__This isn't good __**teamwork**__, lady! Company's not gonna like __**that!**_ _I hope you get __**fired.**_

"And also, assistant, these Clydes can hit hard. I believe that you should be mindful of this."

_You named these things- __**AGH!**_

The latest party crasher of Gordon's inner voice was one of the 'Clydes' proceeding to crash directly into the physicist's chest, the ghost recoiling from the unexpectedly hard application of Newton's third law while sending Freeman down to the ground.

_**FUCK YOU!**_

Not missing a beat, however, Gordon unleashed a flurry of SPAS rounds into the ghost, turning it into bits.

_I'm glad you told me this __**now**__, Miss Attention-Deficit! If I'd __**known**_ _I was going back to the 80's, I would at least have brought my __**high school journal**__, so that I could write down in it that I'm about to be killed by __**Atari **__thanks to your tendency to not tell me __**jack**_ _about what I'm getting into!_

Finishing off his point by turning another Pixelvader into bits, he became dismayed upon seeing how many seemed to be appearing.

"Hey, _**hello? **__Madly __**delusional**_ _magician?_ Can I please get some help so that I **don't die?**" The said magician let out a huff. "Assistant, I realize your combat capabilities may not be up to par with mine, but currently I am occupied with my own adversaries. Please hold out."

_You could help me __**quicker **__if you weren't so fond of big words!_

The firefight continued, MAGES. swiftly and elegantly blasting foes into bits while Freeman continued his barrage of bullets that seemed to run lower and lower by the minute. While the Mad Magician continued to clear out her opponents, however, the physicist struggled to deal with the rate of enemies appearing in front of him, losing more and more ground while dodging lasers and rodeo-charging ghosts. He did hold out, though, at least for a minute more - until his luck finally ran out, catching a laser to his suit that knocked him to a wall, sending the pistol he was wielding flying out of his hand.

_**AGH!**_

Regaining his senses, he instinctively raised his hand to shoot, and worry grew on his face when no more bangs filled the air.

_Uh…_

Freeman stopped pulling an invisible trigger in the air and gaped as the non-invisible enemies approached his position, ready to fire directly at his head.

_Shit, not __**this!**_ _**I don't wanna die to fucking VIDEO GAME ENEMIES! FUCK!**_

Before Gordon could execute the classic "close your eyes and wait for death" cliché, a wall of black fire ripped through his executors, turning the enemies that were caught into dust, and the "fortunate" ones wheeling back in fear (?). Freeman, of course, knew who came to his rescue - and he resented that fact immediately.

_Oh, __**great. **__She saved me __**once,**_ _so now she'll __**never stop**_ _bringing it up. Damn it, I should have died! At least __**then**_ _no one's going to __**lecture**_ _me about how __**great**_ _she is because she knew how to take advantage of __**attention spans!**_ _God, you might as well play some generic "rescue music" right about now to add to the whole thing. It goes __**great**_ _with the mood this witch will have when she's done reveling in herself._

"Demonstrated, assistant! Sometimes you will indeed need help from the Mad Magician!"

_See, look, there she goes._

After blasting one last Pixelvader into fragments, MAGES. looked on at the armored scientist still sitting with his back to the wall, somewhat dazed and most definitely silent. Gordon then looked up to the witch, a sense of "stop looking at me" emanating from his gaze. The Mage put down her gloating smile and grew a look of concern towards her assistant, still looking decidedly not happy.

"Assistant, what ails you?"

Further silence.

"Assistant… what is the matter? I am receptive to your thoughts."

The dead air continued.

MAGES. decided that further dialogue would not advance the situation and simply instead walked towards Freeman, reaching out a hand for assistance.

_I've fallen, and I don't __**wanna**_ _get up!_

Despite his crossness, the armored scientist at least took MAGES.'s hand and, with her assistance, stood back up. Sure, he _could_ have gotten back up by himself - but that would take more _effort._ And Gordon was not in the mood for effort. Noticing the quietness in the factory for the first time in a while, he searched his surroundings to make sure no more jack-in-the-boxes would pop up and fry his brain.

_This isn't fair. __**Nothing**_ _in this place is fair. I didn't consider "laser dodging __**on ice**_" _to be one of the things I have to learn to survive here! But of course, I should have known that I can't trust anything here. __**Again.**_

The Mad Magician - surprisingly - looked worried at her assistant, who could have taken damage from the fight - even if… she didn't see any? However, to her, internal damage was nothing to sneeze at. "Assistant, please inform me of your health status."

_My "health status" is that I'm __**ticked off**__, Mad Hattress! Does it __**look**_ _like I'm injured?! I'm pretty sure by now that a fourteen-foot tall __**monster truck**_ _could run over me and I'd be __**totally fine**__. That is, __**if I had a helmet!**_ _Can you conjure __**that**_ _for me so that next time I won't have to be a ballet dancer being __**shot at?**_

Freeman knew that starting another argument would not be a good idea, so in the exterior world he simply replied "fine" as he retrieved his pistol from the floor. Seeing that her assistant was indeed functional and mobile, MAGES. turned back to the factory entrance, heavy concern now growing on her face - not from Gordon, but from the quiet atmosphere. Something wasn't right - perhaps, as the saying goes, it was too quiet. Didn't the quest list point out something dangerous had to be slain…?

_**CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!**_

MAGES. immediately whirled to face the source, staff drawn and ready to fight. The source, however, turned out to originate from her own assistant, who was currently going to town on a random spot on the floor where a Pixelvader once lay with his crowbar. "Hey, Merlin, are we **done** now?"

"I recall that the quest had one more Dangerous Monster to slay, but it is nowhere in sight. Perhaps we may not have bothered it."

_Oh, it's not __**here**__, huh? Well, I'm sure we'll be __**just fine**_ _now! I guess the monster won't __**attack **__right about __**now!**_

No monster attacked right about now.

_Huh. I guess we did scare it off. Maybe it's smart enough to realize __**dozens**_ _of laser-firing goons dying means it won't stand a chance against me. I __**hope**_ _it's smart enough, because, honestly, I can't be bothered right now to accept anything else._

With the surroundings checked once more for any sign of hostile life, the two breathed a sigh of relief, heading over to the door.

_Look, I'd say I need a __**break**_ _right about now, but what I really deserve after all this is… I don't know, a spa massage or something. Really, after fighting __**pixel things **__that can __**kill you**_ _\- and they almost __**did**_ _\- and witnessing genuine __**magic**__, I'm convinced that __**nothing**_ _makes sense here anymore. Knowing this place, even __**if**_ _I got a first-class spa, it's going to involve some worshiping around a fire followed by something out of a Dali painting._

The fresh air finally hit Freeman as they walked outside, battle-weary and ready to receive their reward.

_Oh, speaking of not making sense, let's talk lasers. Okay, I think I __**remember**_ _lasers being something that usually are __**invisible**__, and don't just… end in a beam. That's not how this works. Unless what I really was being hit with was __**plasma**__, which means that- __**AGH, FUCK!**_

The duo scattered immediately as a large beam landed right in front of them, creating a massive boom that most certainly packed some decibels with it. Quickly regrouping, they looked to the origin of the beam - a large metal construct, having red wings, two gray 'legs', green swords as arms, and a metal head with glowing slits for eyes. Despite the initial beam, however, it did not attack further, instead staring directly at the two quest-takers.

"Yeah, hey, magician?! I think we **bothered it!** Can you at least tell me what **this** is?!"

Said magician turned her head casually to Gordon, apparently not being bothered by the giant death contraption floating in front of her. "Now, **this**, assistant, is an Epsilon." Said assistant, however, clutched his ringing ears. "_**What?!**_" MAGES. sighed and explained louder this time.  
"This is an Epsilon, assistant! It is what we call a Dangerous Monster! We may have encroached a little too much on its territory, and it's waiting for us to respond!"

Freeman didn't necessarily know much biology, but he at least spilled out his thoughts: "If this thing is _**dangerous**_ and waiting for us to _**respond**_, shouldn't we be _**running back home**_ right now?!" The Mage only sported a grin…

_I don't like that smile. That's a bad smile._

"Assistant, it is this monster where we'll get much of our gold from. Let us expedite this quest! Loochs tneve emag noitamina cisum!" And with that, MAGES. cast a jet of fire at the machine, beginning the battle.

_**I KNEW THAT WAS A BAD SMILE!**_

Having no choice now but to fight for his life, Gordon pulled out his MP5, beginning to land rounds into the machine. The Epsilon paid no attention to the bullets, however, and locked its vision on the sorceress, zooming towards her and slashing its swords - only hitting the air as the Mage dodged to the side, blasting the contraption with an ice beam at close range. Undeterred by this setback, the metallic being only recalculated her position and slashed again, slicing into nothing once more.

This routine continued for a minute longer - MAGES. dodging, the machine slashing, and Freeman unleashing bullet hell upon the monster. Even as the blades fail to hit the target, however, the Mad Magician began to feel the effects, starting to breathe heavier, move slower, exhaustion creeping in. Before the machine could land a hit, however, a lucky bullet to the eye managed to draw its attention away, and shifted its gaze towards Gordon.

_Shit._

Figuring out the idea of these monsters, he evaded another large beam, the shockwaves making the physicist temporarily stumble before regaining his balance.

_God __**damn**_ _it, I've __**had**_ _it with these lasers! Alright, __**fine**__, if you want __**firepower**__, __**you'll get it!**_

His thoughts were punctuated with the bringing out of a trusty rocket launcher, quickly setting his laser sight onto the Epsilon.

"Alright, witch, let me show you my **own** sorcery! It's what I call _**nitroglycerin magic!**_ _**Watch and learn!**_" And with a pull of the trigger, the warhead launched, approaching its target. MAGES. watched as the robot detected the projectile, quickly sidestepping (sideflying?) to the right… only to realize that the laser circle was still on it, and the rocket was still headed towards its target. Rapidly.

The Mad Magician raised an eyebrow and smirked as the laser-guided rocket met its destination, sending the Epsilon flying back, damaged parts clearly smoking and malfunctioning. "I must say, assistant, you seem to be very adept at weaponry using science magic already." Freeman, of course, shot the standard "no shit, Skippy" look he was ever-so used to give and loaded another rocket in, already taking aim at the machine firing off a beam into nowhere, its instability already affecting its actions.

Gordon decided to break into some strange accent in his thoughts, because why not.

_And over here, people, is the robot safari! Open season, mates! Here, watch! _

Another rocket launched and detonated on the robot, the Epsilon clearly unable to regain back its combat capability - not helped by a jet of flame emanating from MAGES.' staff.

_Ah, trust me folks, some of 'em are __**big game.**_ _They might need another shot or two._

Reload, launch, shoot, hit. The final warhead sent the Epsilon crashing to the ground, ending its life with an explosion.

_**That's**_ _it! And that's why humans are the __**ultimate predator!**_ _We have __**rocket launchers! **_Freeman got tired of the accent and returned to normalcy (relatively). _But seriously, I don't think that robot was smart. All it did was try to be a bull with a sword. It's not __**that**_ _dangerous._

Of course, Gordon was then reminded of the last robot he had to fight.

_Unlike __**the other one**__. Did whoever make that thing make the __**giant**_ _robot too? It wouldn't surprise me. Magic, futuristic sci-fi world… there's __**gotta**_ _be an evil corporation here somewhere. I guarantee it._

Putting the rocket launcher back into his mysterious inventory pocket, Freeman looked to the blue-haired sorceress for further guidance. "So… are we _done_ now?" MAGES. scanned around the duo for any further threats, and smiled when all was clear. "Absolutely, assistant! It-"

"Oh, thank _**God.**_ I swear, if you were going to start a fight with any more 'dangerous monsters', I was going to just **run.**" Despite the absolute ungratefulness, the Mad Magician didn't seem to mind too much. "The quest list is now complete. We should now return to the building, where gold will be rewarded to us post-haste!"

_Yeah, okay. Let's return to the "__**building**_" _then. Of course, I need to get the gold that I earned __**just**_ _to spend all of it on those three rockets I just wasted. Because __**leaving something alone**_ _apparently isn't something that can be considered as a viable option to you! Why would it be? After all, apparently the 'quest list' needs to be completed, which I __**still**_ _don't understand - surprise, in this city where no one tells me __**anything**__, you have to hop on the bandwagon too - I guess at the possible cost of… our __**lives? **__Just forget it. I don't have to bother with you ever again._

Beginning the long journey back to Planeptune, Gordon wondered if he could start making a chain of robot fingers.

* * *

It took perhaps another hour for the duo to reach Planeptunian city limits, the two both tired and weary from the fight and from the adrenaline lost after it.

_Oh, purple "paradise". Where the people at least __**hint**_ _they want you to die. That's just the culture, really. Can't blame them. Except I __**will.**_ _I've played this game before, I know their tricks. Stupid taxi driver…_

As Freeman came back from some sort of flashback, he noticed that he wandered straight entirely without realizing it, and turned to his companion. "Hey, uh, do you know-"

MAGES. was gone, leaving behind open air.

_Oh, __**come fucking on!**_

Gordon looked around for the witch, observing two things: one, she definitely wasn't following him after some point. And two…

_**WHERE'S THE HALL?!**_

He was lost. Again.

_She __**ditched **__me! Just like the dealer! __**Unbelievable! **__I'm not __**that**_ _scary, guys! There's a lot bigger problems you have right now! Aaargh! Perfect. Look, okay, just… follow the street. Yeah._

Without a guide, Freeman stumbled down the street, eventually recognizing a landmark that set him on the way to the Guild hall.

_How typical of people __**not to show up**_ _when I need __**directions. **__I'm not going to ask the locals, though. I don't need either someone saying a prayer to the kinky crybaby for five minutes or leading me to a guerrilla trap. I don't know which is worse, to be honest._

Eventually, the orange walking armory managed to reach the hall, the drab and metallic interior greeting him back. Approaching the clerk's desk, he tried to get to the bottom of the disappearing comrade and get his gold.

"Hi, question, you saw any witch turn in some quest? Blue hair, pointy hat, loves to abandon me in places I don't know? Yeah, I'm her 'partner'. I need the money. Right now."

The clerk stared at him confused for a moment before putting on that questionable smile again. "Oh, yes! She did tell me that I was waiting on a Mr. Freeman?"

_For God's sake-_

"Here you go, sir! Enjoy your day!"

Contented with the new bag of gold he got, Gordon simply said no more words and looked to see if the magician would show up again - she didn't. Giving up on the idea that he'll ever see her again, Freeman exited the building and headed back to his new home, noting the sun lowering on the horizon.

_Why can't anybody get my __**name**_ _right?! Is having a __**doctor's degree**_ _worthless here? I imagine even the shamans had __**some**_ _sort of training. Doesn't that deserve __**respect?!**_ _I'm not gonna settle for being a slightly better servant of some perverted purple Aphrodite and her sadistic "friends"! God, when I take over this city, the __**first**_ _law I'm passing is making it illegal to not refer to me as Dr. Freeman. Or as lord and master. I'm not picky._

Finding himself gazing at another bar, he snapped back towards the Basilicom close by, still noting the shouts of people giving away Arfoire chips.

_Will these guys __**ever**_ _shut up? I'm not falling for their lies __**again**__, that's for sure. You'd think word around the street is that the black market only sells fake currency… for whatever reason. Care to __**expand your selection, **__guys? I know for a fact that there's alcoholics here. There's gotta be. No city's complete without them._

Ignoring the irony of his statement, Gordon entered the Basilicom lobby, noticing the security guards shooting rather disgusted looks at him.

_Oh, those cops again. Yeah, I see you. Freaking fascists…_

However, said 'fascists' did not intervene, only silently judging the physicist. Making his way to the elevator room without conflict, Freeman proceeded to press the button on the hexagon, the rails springing up once more and beginning its ascent.

_Where was I? Oh yeah, the lasers. Or rather, the __**plasma.**_ _I got hit __**right**_ _in the chest. Bullseye. But I'm not seeing a giant gaping hole through me, as I would have expected. Sure, I'm not __**dead**__, but this raises some questions. I guess the first one is __**just how protected IS**_ _**this suit? **__It took bullets, it took electricity, it took plasma… actually, I don't think that __**was**_ _plasma! This thing's metal, and I didn't even feel any __**heat!**_ _So either my suit has a complex temperature dispersion system, or lasers really do work like that here. I'm not even going to say the answer. We __**all**_ _know what's going on._

With a futuristic ding - _I see we're never short on __**synth**_ _\- _the elevator stopped, with Gordon stepping onto the sweet carpet floor of the Basilicom's upper areas.

_Normally, I don't fear __**elevators**_ _\- unless they're the damn spinning types - but I don't have a good feeling about that one. I'm not a fan of minding my own business and then the hologram under me __**disappears**_ _and I fall to my death. That __**would**_ _be cool to see as a sort of TV show, but I'm not letting that happen to __**me. **__That lift should be for the __**servants!**_

Yet unfortunately for him, a certain green-eyed jacket girl made eye contact on the physicist heading to his room, resulting in a not-so-nice "Hey!" from her, and a groan from Freeman he didn't bother to hide.

"Freeman, where have you been?"

"Being attacked by monsters and accompanying an insane witch for money. Do you not consider this _normal_ here?"

Satisfied with his answer, IF then proceeded to get to her main point.

"Look, whatever."

_**Whatever?**_ _I almost __**died!**_ _Maybe since you're a fan of sending me on suicide missions, you think I'm invincible, but I'm here to tell you that your assertion is __**wrong!**_ _I don't want to think about that, though._

"We have to make our move on ASIC soon, Freeman. We need to save the rest of the CPU's if we want to have a chance at taking them out for good."

"Sure."

"I need you to start training for this while Gear's still in rehab."

"Okay."

"Because when you attack the first base, we need to move quickly, 'cause they're gonna respond fast."

"Yeah."

IF became frustrated yet again at Gordon being dismissive for the n-th million time.

"_**Freeman, do you even care?!"**_

"Nope."

The girl emitted a loud "_**Ugh!"**_ of anger and stormed out, leaving Freeman alone once more. Undeterred by this development, perhaps even relishing it, Gordon headed back to his room, entering and collapsing straight onto his bed.

_Fade to black._

_...I should've been an arcade technician._

* * *

**Wow. It's been a while, huh? Yeah, I know, I know, dead fic.**

**Sorry again for all the delay! Things have been extremely busy for me for a while now, and it's just too hard to keep up with everything I have to do as a hobby. But **_**hopefully**_ **(no promises), updates should once again come more frequently. Thanks to everyone who's reading! Your feedback means a lot, it really does.**

**So yeah, that's it! Next up: the raid you've been waiting for.**


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